Sarah and Goliath (Caught by Dad)

Charles comes home to find his daughter and the dog in a compromising position...

Charles shoulders flexed as he lifted the chipper's hitch, the rusted metal groaning in protest. His muscles complaining as he shoved the heavy machine backward into the shed, the scent of two-stroke and pine sap clinging to his skin. He swiped a hand across his forehead, exhaling sharply. He was too old to be hauling his arse up trees, but what the hell else was he going to do?

Claire's car wasn’t in the drive. Charles frowned, wiping his hands on his chainsaw pants as he scanned the empty space where her silver Volvo should’ve been. Probably shopping, always shopping—but at least he could put his feet up without her clucking about muddy clothes on the sofa. He pushed open the front door, "hello- anybody home?"

Silence. The house had that hollow feel—no hum of the TV, no awful music from James's room. Just the fridge groaning and the distant *tick-tick* of the hallway clock. He tossed his keys on the sideboard, listening harder. A muffled sound—whimpering?—drifted down the hall. Sarah’s room.

Charles frowned. Not crying—no, this was sharper. Breathy. He wandered down the hall, boots heavy on the wooden floor boards. Another sound— Goliath whimpering. He knocked, "Sazzle?

Sarah's voice cracked, "Dad—don't—!"

Too late. The door swung open. Charles stood frozen in the doorway, his grip slackening around the knob.

His fourteen-year-old daughter pinned under Goliath's massive frame, her naked body flush against the mattress, legs spread obscenely wide—and the dog, *his* fucking dog, still knotted inside her. Sarah's face was pressed into the sheets, her curls. The sight punched the breath from his lungs. Her thighs glistened, slick with spit and cum, her pink folds stretched taut around the dog's throbbing cock.

"Daddy," she sobbed, her voice raw with tears, twisting her head to look at him with wide, terrified eyes. "I—I didn’t mean—he just—" Her explanation shattered into another whimper as Goliath shifted slightly, his knot tugging at her swollen entrance. Charles’ stomach lurched, a cocktail of horror and something darker, thicker, twisting low in his gut. His hands clenched at his sides, fingers digging into his palms hard enough to leave crescents in his flesh.

Goliath whined, his paws scrambling against the bedsheets as he tried to dismount again— Sarah's teenage cunt clenched reflexively around his knot, the swollen bulge tugging at her tender flesh in a way that made her cry out. Her thighs trembled, her fingers twisting into the quilt as another hot dribble of canine cum leaked out around the thick intrusion. She couldn’t help it—a broken, involuntary moan escaped her lips, her hips jerking slightly at the overwhelming stretch.

Charles quickly knelt—his knees hit the hardwood with a dull thud—and grabbed Goliath's collar with one calloused hand. The other hovered uncertainly over Sarah's bare hip, his fingertips brushing the flushed skin there before jerking back as if burned. His breathing was ragged, uneven. "Christ," he muttered, voice rough. The dog whined again, his muscular body shifting—Sarah gasped as the movement sent another jolt of pleasure-pain through her oversensitive cunt. Charles' grip tightened on the collar, his other hand finding the base of Goliath's knot with trembling fingers.

"Daddy, I...I —" Sarah's plea dissolved into a choked gasp as Charles' thick fingers brushed the swollen base of Goliath's knot where it stretched her obscenely wide. His touch sent an electric jolt through her—shame, bottomless and searing.

"Let's just get him out of you," Charles muttered, though his voice sounded strange—thick, strained—as his fingers pressed more firmly against the swollen knot. Sarah whimpered, her hips jerking involuntarily at the contact, her thighs trembling. The sensation was unbearable—too much pressure, too much *everything*—she just wanted the earth to swallow her whole.

"This is going to hurt," Charles said, gruff, "but we have to—" His grip tightened on Goliath's collar, his other hand shifting lower, fingers slicking through the mess dripping from her stretched cunt. The touch was clinical at first, then—lingering. Sarah gasped as his thumb brushed her oversensitive lips, sending sparks up her spine. Her stomach twisted, her breath hitching.

He slowly pulled—his rough fingers pressing against the base of Goliath’s knot with deliberate pressure. Sarah’s back arched violently, a ragged cry tearing from her throat as the swollen bulge tugged at her tender flesh. Charles’ breath was hot against her shoulder, his grip unrelenting. "Easy," he murmured, though his own voice was strained—tight with something darker than concern. His fingers curled around the knot, slick with her arousal and Goliath’s cum, and he worked it free inch by agonizing inch. Every movement sent fresh tears spilling down Sarah’s cheeks, her thighs trembling as her body fought to hold on.

Then it popped free—a wet, obscene sound—and she collapsed against the mattress, gasping, her cunt clenching around nothing. Charles watched as dog cum poured out of her, thick and hot, dripping down her inner thighs. His fingers twitched at his sides, still slick with it. Sarah curled into herself, shaking, her face buried in the sheets.

Charles noticed she'd shaved her pussy bare— like when she was little. But now the swollen pink lips gaped obscenely, glistening with canine seed that still dripped lazily down her trembling thighs. Her cunt pulsed visibly, twitching around nothing, the tight little hole struggling to close after being stretched so brutally wide. His traitorous cock stiffen slightly. She covered herself, suddenly aware of her nudity—but not fast enough. He'd *seen*.

"Daddy, I'm so sorry—" Sarah's voice cracked as she scrambled to pull the quilt over herself, her fingers trembling against the damp fabric.

Charles exhaled sharply through his nose, his knuckles whitening where they gripped the bedframe. "It's ok sweetheart," he murmured, voice thick with something Sarah didn’t recognize—something that made the fine hairs on her arms stand up. "Teenagers have... urges." His gaze lingered on her.

Sarah swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her throat. His words utterly surprising her. She pulled the quilt tighter around her shoulders. "You're not mad?

Charles' jaw worked silently for a moment, his fingers flexing at his sides before he exhaled sharply. He reached out, brushing a stray curl from her damp forehead—his calloused fingers lingered a second too long. "Course not," he murmured, voice low. His thumb traced the shell of her ear absently. Sarah shivered, her stomach twisting as his gaze dropped to her mouth, then lower—to where the quilt barely covered her breasts. "Just… surprised."

Goliath whined, nosing at Charles' thigh before collapsing onto the rug with a contented huff. The sound snapped Sarah back to reality—her thighs were still sticky, her cunt throbbing. She bit her lip hard, watching her dad's throat bob as he swallowed.

"Come on, lets get you cleaned up," Charles said, his voice gruff as he reached down to help her up. His fingers wrapped around her wrist—too tight, too warm—and Sarah flinched as he pulled her upright. The quilt slipped from her shoulders, exposing her bare skin, her pink nipples pebbling in the cool air. She scrambled to cover herself again, but his gaze had already raked over her—lingering on the sticky mess between her legs.

Sarah stumbled when he lifted her, her legs weak and trembling. Charles hooked an arm beneath her knees, the other cradling her back—like she was a child again, small and breakable. She didn’t resist. Couldn’t. Her head lolled against his shoulder, her curls damp with sweat, her breath shallow. He carried her down the hall, his boots heavy on the floorboards, her body limp in his arms. The bathroom light flickered on, harsh and fluorescent, and Sarah squeezed her eyes shut against the glare.

Charles set her down gently, her bare feet touching the cold tile. She swayed, gripping the edge of the sink for balance, her thighs smeared with drying cum. He didn’t look at her—not directly. His face was a mask, jaw tight, eyes shadowed. He reached past her, twisting the shower knob with rough fingers. Water hissed through the pipes, then roared, steaming hot. Sarah watched his reflection in the fogging mirror—his nostrils flaring slightly as the scent of Goliath’s release rose between them.

The hot water hit Sarah’s skin like a slap, steam curling around her trembling body as she stood under the spray. Charles’ hands lingered at her waist—steadying her, though she didn’t need it—before sliding away slowly, fingers trailing her damp skin. She expected him to leave. To shut the door behind him with some awkward remark about *being more careful next time*. But he didn’t.

Instead, he just… watched. His eyes darkened as the water sluiced down her body, washing away the sticky evidence of what had happened. Sarah’s breath hitched when his gaze traced the slight adolescent curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, the way her tiny breasts gleamed under the shower’s spray. Her skin prickled under his scrutiny, something hot and unfamiliar coiling low in her belly.

Then he started to strip.

Sarah blinked through the steam, her pulse stuttering as her dad—peeled his sweat-stained t-shirt over his head in one rough motion. His shoulders were broad and muscular, his chest dusted with coarse dark hair that trailed down his stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his filthy chainsaw pants. The muscles in his arms flexed as he kicked off his boots, the leather thudding against the tiles.

"Daddy?" Sarah's voice trembled as she struggled to understand what was happening. The hot water pounded against her sore body, washing away streaks of canine seed down her thighs, but she couldn't tear her eyes away as Charles—*her father*—undid his belt buckle with deliberate slowness. The leather hissed through the loops, his rough fingers popping the button of his work pants next.

"I need a shower too, I'm filthy. Charles' voice was low, rougher than usual, as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and pushed them down in one slow motion. Sarah's breath caught—his cock was already half-hard, thick and flushed against his thigh, the tip glistening with pre-cum. The sight made her stomach twist, her pulse hammering in her throat as she instinctively pressed her thighs together, the movement sending a dull throb through her sore, stretched pussy.

The shower spray hit his shoulders first, turning his tanned skin slick under the steaming water. He didn't look at her—not directly—just reached for the soap with deliberate slowness, lathering his calloused palms. "Turn around," he murmured, voice thick with something unrecognizable. Sarah hesitated, her fingers twitching at her sides before obeying, presenting her bare back to him, the water cascading down her narrow spine. His soapy hands slid over her shoulders first—clinical, fatherly, cleansing her. But then his touch dipped lower, following the curve of her waist, his thumbs pressing into the dimples above her arse. Sarah shuddered, her breath hitching as his fingers lingered there, tracing idle circles on her skin.

"You know you don't need to rely on Goliath," Charles murmured, his soap-slick hands sliding lower now—slow, deliberate. The scent of pine sap and sweat clung to him as he stepped closer, his cock pressing hot against the small of Sarah's back. She gasped at the contact, her fingers scrabbling against the slick tiles for balance. "Daddy—"

His palm flattened against her stomach, pulling her flush against him. The shower spray pounded between them, turning his chest hair dark against her shoulder blades.. "You're shaking," he noted, though his own voice wasn't steady either. One broad hand slid lower, fingers trailing through the soapy water running down her thighs—then higher, brushing the swollen lips of her cunt. Sarah whimpered, her knees buckling as his calloused fingertips grazed oversensitive flesh. She was so sore, but—

"You're still wet," Charles observed gruffly, his fingers parting her folds with deliberate slowness. Not just from the shower—her cunt pulsed around nothing, clenching desperately as his finger circled her clit. Sarah's breath hitched, her hips jerking forward instinctively, chasing the pressure. His other arm tightened around her waist, holding her upright as her legs gave out. "Daddy—"

His cock slid between her thighs—hot and thick against her wet folds —not trying to enter her yet, just pressing against her swollen lips with deliberate friction. Sarah gasped, her back arching against his chest as the rough drag of his shaft sent sparks up her spine. Charles exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers tightening on her hip as he ground against her, the soapy water making the glide obscenely slick.

"You know there's a reason your mum got Goliath," Charles murmured, his lips brushing the shell of Sarah's ear as his cock slid against her wet folds with agonizing slowness. His voice was rough—thick with something dark and possessive that sent a shiver down her spine. "They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

Sarah whimpered, her fingers scrabbling against the slick tiles as her thighs trembled. His cock was so much bigger than Goliath’s—hot and heavy between her legs, pressing against her sore, stretched entrance without pushing in. Yet. The steam curled around them, thick and suffocating, as Charles’ hips rolled forward in a slow, deliberate grind.
"She trained him... trained him to fuck," he murmured, his breath scalding against her neck. His fingers tightened on her hipbone, his other hand sliding up to cup her small, pert breast—so unlike Claire’s—pinching her nipple between rough fingertips. Sarah gasped, her back arching instinctively, her body betraying her as heat pooled low in her belly.
Sarah's head was spinning- what the fuck was happening?! Her dad was pressed against her in the shower, his cock sliding against her folds as if—as if—. Telling her her *mother* had trained their dog to—?! It was like all this was happening to someone else. Like she was a thousand miles away watching.
"Daddy—" Sarah's protest dissolved into a broken moan as his fingers found her clit again, rubbing tight, relentless circles that sent sparks skittering up her spine. Her toes curled against the wet tiles, her hips jerking forward instinctively—chasing the pressure despite her soreness, and the shame curling in her gut.

Charles exhaled sharply through his nose, his cock twitching against her swollen lips. "I could teach you better," he growled—low, possessive—his fingers curling inside her suddenly, stretching her tender walls. Sarah cried out, her knees buckling as his thick digit pressed deep— then two—scissoring her open with rough precision. The stretch burned—she was still so sore—but her cunt clenched around his fingers greedily, dripping slick down her trembling thighs.
"Do you want me to stop?

Sarah hesitated—her breath ragged, her pulse hammering in her throat. His fingers curled inside her, pressing against a spot that made her vision white out for a second. The shower spray pounded against her back, the water running almost cold now, washing away the last traces of Goliath’s claim on her body. Her father’s scent—pine sap and soap—filled her lungs, overwhelming. His cock throbbed against her thigh, thick and heavy with need.
"Your just like your mother, aren't you?" Charles murmured against her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point—not quite a bite, but close. His fingers twisted inside her, dragging another choked gasp from her lips. "A little kennel slut."
Sarah whimpered, her hips jerking forward instinctively—her body betraying her. His words should’ve horrified her. Instead, they sent a bolt of heat straight to her core. She couldn’t speak—could barely think—but she didn’t pull away.
Charles exhaled sharply, his grip tightening. "Tell me," he demanded, voice rough. "Tell me you want it."
Sarah still didn't answer, but pushed back against him—her slick folds pressing against the swollen head of his cock. That was answer enough.
Charles groaned—deep, guttural—his fingers withdrawing from her dripping cunt to grip his shaft instead. He lined himself up, the blunt tip pressing against her stretched entrance. Sarah braced herself, her fingers scrabbling against the shower tiles—but he didn’t push in. Not yet.
"Look at me," he ordered.
Sarah twisted her head slightly, her wet curls clinging to her cheeks as she met his gaze—dark, hungry, nothing like the dad who’d tucked her in at night. His free hand cupped her chin, forcing her to hold eye contact as he finally—finally—pushed forward.
The stretch was unbearable—she was still sore, still loose from Goliath’s knot, but Charles was *thicker*. Sarah choked on a sob, her nails scraping against the tiles as he slowly, relentlessly fucked himself into her ruined teenage cunt.
Charles hissed through clenched teeth, his hips flush against her arse as he bottomed out—his cock buried to the hilt in his own daughter’s tight, trembling body.
"Fuck," he growled—half prayer, half curse—before pulling out just as slowly, then slamming back in with one brutal thrust. Sarah screamed, her knees buckling—but he held her up easily, his arm banded around her waist as he set a punishing pace, each snap of his hips driving her forward against the shower wall.
The pain blurred—sharp edges dulling into something hotter, darker—as her body adjusted, welcoming him. Sarah’s moans bounced off the tiles, her hands scrambling for purchase as her father fucked her like an animal—no tenderness, no hesitation—just raw, primal need.
"Been thinking about this," Charles gasped against her ear, his thrusts growing erratic. "Since you started wearing those little shorts—" His fingers dug into her hipbone, holding her still as he pounded into her, his cock twitching deep inside her. "I knew...Knew you were ready."
Sarah’s stomach tightened—shame and pleasure twisting together—as his words sent her tumbling over the edge. Her sore-gasm ripped through her, her cunt clenching around his cock like a vice. Charles groaned—long and ragged—before he slowed, pushing her forward so her torso pressed against the cold tiles. He gripped her hips roughly, pinning her in place as he fucked her through her orgasm.
His thumb traced down her spine, sending another shudder through her oversensitive body. His strong rough hands gripped her, as his thumb found the pucker of her anus—circling it with agonizing slowness. Sarah whimpered, "Daddy—what..."
Charles cut her off, pressing his thumb against her tight hole—not pushing in—just teasing. "Your mother likes it when I fuck her here," he murmured—voice dark with promise—as he continued thrusting into her dripping teenage cunt. "Especially after Goliath fills her up."
Sarah’s stomach twisted—equal parts horror and arousal—as she imagined her mother bent over, their dog mounting her while Charles—*No*. She couldn’t—shouldn’t—think about it. But her traitorous body responded anyway, her cunt fluttering around his cock.
Charles chuckled—low, knowing—before pushing his rough calloused thumb inside his daughter’s tight little arse. Sarah gasped, her back arching violently as the dual stimulation sent sparks skittering up her spine.
"You like that, don't you," Charles growled—no longer asking—as his thrusts grew frenzied, his cock swelling inside her. His thumb worked deeper into her arse, stretching her obscenely as he fucked her like an animal. Sarah sobbed—half in pleasure, half in shame—as her father slowly fucked her, while finger-fucking her tight little hole.
His entire thumb was buried inside her now, pressing against her inner walls as his cock slide in and out of her cunt. Sarah’s toes curled against the wet tiles, her body tightening— pain and pleasure collided. Sarah barely had time to gasp before he pulled his thumb out abruptly—only to slam back in with two fingers, stretching her brutally.
Sarah screamed—her vision whiting out—as Charles finger fucked her arsehole. The pain was unbearable—too much—but she couldn’t pull away. His grip was iron-tight, his thrusts relentless.
He pulled his cock out of her cunt—slick and glistening—before pressing the head against her stretched arsehole. Sarah panicked, struggling weakly—but he pinned her effortlessly, his free hand gripping her hair as he forced her face-first against the tiles.
"Shh," Charles murmured—voice rough, almost tender—as he rubbed his cock against her tight hole. "Be a good girl for daddy."
Sarah whimpered—her entire body trembling—as the blunt head of his cock pressed against her virgin arsehole. She knew—knew—she couldn’t stop him.
Charles exhaled sharply—his fingers tightening in her hair—before pushing forward, agonizing slowly, until his cock head popped past her tight ring. Sarah sobbed—her body clenching around the intrusion—but he didn’t stop. He kept pushing—inch by brutal inch—until he was fully sheathed inside her tight arse.
Charles groaned—long and ragged—his hips flush against her arse as he bottomed out. Sarah gasped—her entire body trembling—as he rested there for a moment, letting her adjust to the overwhelming stretch.
Then he pulled out—slowly—before slamming back in with one brutal thrust. Sarah screamed—her fingers scrabbling against the tiles—as he fucked her arse with the same relentless rhythm he’d used in her cunt.
Charles’ grip tightened—his fingers digging into her hipbone—as he set a brutal pace, each thrust driving her forward against the shower wall. Sarah’s vision blurred—her bum was on fire, burning. Her dad's fingers found her cunt and hooked into her—stretching her obscenely as he finger-fucked her while pounding her arse.
Sarah sobbed—her entire body tightening—as Charles fucked her mercilessly, his fingers pistoning in and out of her dripping cunt while his cock ravaged her arsehole.
Sarah whimpered—her stomach twisting—as she realized she was close again. The shame burned hotter than the pleasure—but it didn’t matter. Her body betrayed her, clenching around his cock as another orgasm ripped through her.
*What kind of slut was she?* The thought barely registered before Charles groaned—deep and guttural—his cock twitching inside her arse as he came—hot and thick—filling her up. Sarah gasped—her body shuddering—as she felt him pulse inside her, his fingers still buried deep in her cunt.
Charles exhaled sharply—his grip loosening—before pulling out slowly, his cock glistening with her juices. Sarah collapsed against the shower wall—her legs shaking—as cum leaked down her thighs, mixing with the water swirling down the drain.
Charles reached forward—his fingers trailing down her spine—before cupping her small arse cheek with surprising gentleness. "Good girl," he murmured—voice rough with satisfaction—before stepping back, letting the shower spray wash away the evidence.
Sarah trembled—her entire body buzzing—as the reality of what just happened crashed over her. Her father had just—*fucked her in her arse*. Worse—she’d *liked it*. The shame burned—but so did the lingering pleasure, twisting low in her belly.
Charles grabbed the soap—his movements unhurried—before lathering his hands again. He reached for Sarah—pulling her back against him—and began washing her body with the same rough gentleness he’d used when she was a child. The familiarity of it—the *normalcy*—sent a fresh wave of confusion through her.
Sarah didn’t resist—couldn’t—as his soapy hands slid over her breasts, her stomach, between her thighs—cleaning away the mess *he’d* made. Her breath hitched when his fingers brushed over her swollen folds—lingering—before moving on.
Charles exhaled—slow, controlled—before turning her around to face him. Sarah kept her gaze lowered—her cheeks burning—as his fingers tilted her chin up. "Look at me," he ordered—voice softer now, but no less commanding.
Sarah hesitated—her pulse fluttering—before meeting his gaze. His eyes were dark—hungry—but there was something else there too. Something possessive. Something *proud*.
The realization sent a fresh jolt of heat through her—shame and arousal twisting together.
Charles cupped her cheek—his thumb brushing away a stray tear—before leaning down, pressing his lips against hers in a rough, claiming kiss. Sarah gasped—her entire body tensing—before melting against him, her traitorous lips parting instinctively.
Charles groaned—deep and satisfied—before pulling back, his fingers tracing her swollen lips. "You’re mine now," he murmured—voice thick with possession. "Understand?"
Sarah nodded—her stomach twisting—before pressing her face against his chest, inhaling his familiar scent—pine sap and *him*. She didn’t know what this meant—what she’d just become—but she couldn’t pull away.
Charles exhaled—slow and satisfied—before wrapping his arms around her.