Daddy’s New Daughters


This story takes place over 20 years. Even if characters are underage at certain periods when part of the story is happening, sexual contact only happens with characters that are over the age of 18 at the time of the sexual contact.

This story is fiction. If anyone feels I am specifically talking about them, should know they are wrong.

This story is my own creation and typing it all out is my own work. I assert all my rights under the copyright laws of every country in which this story is viewed. If anyone wants to accuse me of plagiarism then you can just sue me or I don’t want to hear it.


The first part of all this happened the summer before my senior year in high school. We had a racist Dixiecrat from Arkansas as potus. I was already 18 because when I came to this country I didn’t speak the language and I got held back even though I was already too old for the grade they initially put me in. I was going to be 20 when I graduated from high school but I skipped a grade on academic performance.

Anyway, I knew I was behind and everyone kept reminding me I was behind so the summer before freshman year I took a summer class at the community college. I did the same the summer before sophomore year and junior year. Once I did finally get out of high school I’d start college with the first year and a half already finished.

Right before summer my mom had another baby, a girl they named Consuela, bringing the total number of sisters I had to four. I can’t really remember why but I just felt like getting out of the house and my parents felt it would be ok for me to travel for school. That summer, instead of going to the community college I took some classes at the giant university with the famous sports team. That would also give me a chance to take some placement tests and get even more credits.

As you probably guessed, I was the kind of guy who liked books and really liked to learn. I felt comfortable with nerds and the like but they never really accepted me.

If you could imagine Bruce Lee but from Latin America you’d have a pretty good idea of what I looked like. Yes, I loved books but I also liked to jog, do karate, and even lift weights though I wasn’t trying to bulk up. I just really enjoyed keeping myself healthy and my mind felt like it was going a thousand rpm after a good workout and an espresso.

The facilities at the university were impressive and I felt like I fit in with the other guys there. I just wouldn’t tell them I was taking calculus class and computer science. It was while I was at the gym that I met her.

The first day she came up to talk to me I just thought she was being nice. She was an older lady but not old. Her name was Clara and she was being really nice to me. The second time I bumped into her she asked to take me to lunch and I saw no reason to object.

That lunch somehow turned into taking a visit to a hotel. I remember how it was. I sort of knew what was happening and I wanted to say something but I was totally unprepared for this. Sure she was older than me but so were all the other women who were just students. But I’d just met her. I didn’t know anything about her. And yet, that sort of turned me on.

Ok, so I was a young man and when confronted with an attractive woman who wanted to have sex with me you better believe I had sex with her. I just hoped she wasn’t like some professor whose class I’d have to take later. I did think it was funny though when she tied me to the bed and wouldn’t even kiss me. I did not think sex would be like that. I had this completely different image in my head.

My head was swimming. It was so magical. I felt like I was falling in love with her. Were we going to get married? Did she want to be with me? Obviously she did. Could I make her happy? I could try. She was just so perfect, and amazing, and wonderful. She was the goddess and I would have done anything she asked of me.

After that day in the hotel I didn’t see her come by the gym anymore. I had her phone number and after a few days of not bumping into her I called her from a pay phone. The number actually went to the bank and it told me the time and the weather forecast.

I know now that I shouldn’t have let it affect me but at the time it was painful. I really felt hurt. It almost didn’t feel emotional. It felt like real, physical damage in my chest. After class that day I just went back to the dorm and cried my eyes out. I felt like she had used me. I felt like maybe she’d raped me. But of course since I’m a guy everyone would just tell me that a woman can’t rape a guy, or that I really must have wanted to do it, or I deserved it for being male.

I was mopey for the next few days. I worked out less and I just stuck to my classes and my books. When I spoke to my parents on the phone I didn’t mention what happened but my mom could tell that something was wrong. She kept asking me about it and when I deflected she asked me to just come home.

It was tempting. After Nevşehir Escort all, I didn’t need these credits or this school. I wasn’t planning on really going here for undergrad anyway.

But I wasn’t a quitter. I was going to get my credits and come home and then just never go back to that place.

The weeks of summer pressed on and I eventually stopped thinking about Clara. I got back into the swing of things and life was starting to look good. I even met a college student who was interested in me despite the fact that I was really just a high school student. Her name was Stephanie.

We were sort of friends first, and then we went on a couple of cheap dates since neither one of us had any disposable income. She really lifted me up and she was great to hang out with.

The week before classes ended we felt the time limit on us. I think that was why we went ahead and made our relationship official. Not only was she now my girlfriend but she also became my sex partner. Thinking back on it, I was such a sap. I kept asking over and over again if it was ok. I was so scared of doing something wrong or offending her.

She was only the second person for me to be with but I had already learned to keep my emotions in check. I was glad to make her happy but I wasn’t going to assume anything. I was going to try and be a good boyfriend and not jump to conclusions. Stephanie came from a very old fashioned family and it looked like that meant something different in this country.

In my home country, old fashioned meant religious. In the US, old fashioned I think just meant racist. Stephanie was going to have a hard sell to get her parents to accept me. I guess protestants teach that only white people descended from Germans could go to heaven.

After I went back home I spoke with Stephanie on the phone everyday. I missed her and she said she missed me. Even when regular school started I called her everyday in the evening, even if it was just to say hi and let her know I was thinking about her.

Two weeks after regular school started Stephanie invited me to go with her to her parents’ house for the weekend. Ok, it wasn’t the whole weekend. It was more like lunch and dinner on a Sunday.

I felt really small and intimidated as I looked at all the huge, insanely expensive homes in Stephanie’s neighborhood. I was wearing a nice dress shirt and tie but I still felt under dressed. I was nervous and sweating. I really wanted them to like me. Stephanie had said that she’d keep dating me even if her parents didn’t approve but life would have been so much better if they did.

Stephanie insisted that it was her father that would be the problem. He was the one I had to get close to. He was the one that might object the most. Stephanie said that in front of her father, her mom usually just agreed with him but in private she was much more open minded.

So there I was, standing with Stephanie at the door. This was it. I was going to meet my girlfriend’s parents. The door opened.

It would be difficult for me now all these years later to describe how exactly I felt at that moment. Stephanie’s father just seemed like exactly what you’d expect. He just looked like some rich white guy relaxing at home on his day off. It was Stephanie’s mom that bothered me.

Can you guess why? Go ahead.

Yeah, it was her. Clara. Fuck me. As soon as we both saw each other we both knew it. I was so angry. I was so pissed at her. How could she treat me the way she did? What was wrong with her? And she was already married. That means she committed adultery with me. That meant I was going to have to go to confession again for what I did with her.

The first time I tried to confess had already been so difficult. The priest did not keep regular confession times, it was by appointment only so there was no way for an anonymous confession. Then after I poured my heart out about everything, the priest starts telling me I hadn’t done anything wrong. He was going on and on about how all the rules are changing and we were going to have women priest one day. Then, he wouldn’t even say the words of absolution. I had to go get the actual book and then ambush him while he was walking somewhere and force him to say the words.

And now I was going to have to do all of that all over again. FUCK. Why did God hate me so much to put sin right in front of my face and then make it so hard to get forgiveness?

Anyway, in the moment at the door I didn’t explode. I grit my teeth and let them welcome me in. But no sooner had lunch been served by the staff …

Side note: What the hell kind of people keep fucking staff in their home? Why was Clara so fucking lazy that she had to hire immigrants to clean her house for her? Is that what she thought of me? She just saw me as some fucking slave she could abuse.

Anyway, like I said, lunch had just been served by the house slaves when Clara starts laying in on Stephanie for dating a guy like me. Nevşehir Escort Bayan She said I was completely unacceptable for her daughter and she wanted me out of the house.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I got up to leave but it was Stephanie’s father who asked me to stay. There was some more conversation that I tried to stay out of. It was Stephanie and her father vs Clara but the bitch was insistent that Stephanie had to break up with me.

As crazy as it sounded, I sort of agreed with her. I was just not able to wrap my head around the idea that I’d had sex with both mother and daughter. Mind blown. This was too fucked up for me. I had to get out.

When lunch had officially ended they all went to the living room to sit and talk about their issues some more. I asked one of the slaves in Spanish where the restroom was. They were so lucky they didn’t speak English because hearing the filthy, racist crap coming out of Clara’s mouth would have made them sick.

The next thing that happened I was totally not expecting. Clara actually followed me to the toilet. While my girlfriend and her father were waiting in the living room Clara came into the restroom with me.

She was initially accusing me of deliberately seeking out her daughter to get to her. I told her she was wrong but mid sentence she forced herself onto me and kissed me. Then she offered me a deal. I could come over and keep having sex with her so long as I broke up with Stephanie.

Yeah, not going to happen. I was actually planning to break up with Stephanie anyway because all this was too weird for me but I had to reject her offer. I pushed past her and I was in the hallway when she caught up to me and pressed me against the wall.

She was going on and on about how she was going to make it so great for me. I just had to keep my mouth shut and leave her daughter alone. She tried to get me to go upstairs with her and fuck her right then. I refused and then she tried to get on her knees and give me a blow job to seal the deal.

She only stopped when she heard her husband calling out for her. The damn house was so big that these people had to call out at the top of their lungs to be heard. When Clara and I rejoined Stephanie and her father in the living room, which was bigger than the entire house my parents had, Clara announced to everyone that I had agreed to break up with Stephanie.

I was going to protest but then one of the house staff came in and went to Stephanie’s father. She whispered something into the man’s ear and his eyes grew large, then angry. The things his wife was doing with me in the hallway, the immigrants totally saw all of it.

As you can imagine the shit hit the fan. The story came out about the one night stand and before I knew it I was sitting at the bus stop all the way outside the gate of the enclosed community. I was persona non grata at that house and I was never to see Clara or Stephanie again.

So time went on. Life went on. Senior year happened and the it was over. I went to a completely different college and I just never heard what happened to that crazy family. I finished college and went to grad school. After grad school I got a job at a software company. I became the big earner in the family and I made sure none of my relatives ever had to work some demeaning job cleaning a white person’s toilet.

I guess it was because of everything I’d done to raise the status of living for everyone in my family that I was the one who was actually the guest of honor at my sister’s quinceanera. It was a very strange moment when I was dancing with Consuela at the party and I noticed in myself a sort of reaction to her. It was very disturbing since she was my sister and she was only just then turning 15. I was more than twice her age.

I guess if I had to describe how I felt, it was like when a crazy person starts to realize they are crazy. Before they do, they are blissfully happy in their own little world but once they understand that they have a problem they either become depressed or violent. It was sort of like that for me. The day before the party I was perfectly happy and feeling fine. The day after the party all I could think was that I was some sort of sick pervert. How could I feel that way about my sister, who was not only my sister but who was also underage.

The woman I was dating at the time noticed that something was going on with me and she wanted to talk about it. Ha. Not going to happen. I was barely able to internally admit it. There was no way I was going to utter the words for another human to hear. No. Absolutely not, absolutely not, absolutely not.

I was just going to keep my mouth shut and pretend everything was ok.

Fast forward four years from then and I was 37. The world sure had changed. I had changed. Amazingly, we had a racist Dixiecrat from Arkansas as president. Go figure.

Anyway, I never got married and boy was I happy about that. American women were just Escort Nevşehir the worst. They talked up feminism to the max but to me all of that was just a front for racism. Black people and Hispanics have real problems that need real solutions. It is totally racist for white women to say their imagined problems are anywhere in the same league. They just want attention and I refuse to give it to them if it means black people have to continue suffering for it.

I don’t know about anyone else but for me, if I was going to do family, I was going to do it right or not at all. I had a very specific idea of what I wanted in a wife and if I couldn’t get it, then I was just going to pass. I was not going to be like that guy, whose name I could not remember. No woman was going to cheat on me. If a woman dated me I demanded absolute loyalty, not just with sex but with everything. Anything less and I kicked her to the curb. She didn’t deserve me. On to the next.

I was doing them a favor if you think about it. If they don’t want to date a guy like me then I’m helping them eventually get to the guy they do want to be with. I absolutely see no reason for me to have to change to accommodate any of them. Not after how I was treated. No way.

Anyway, like everyone else I had a facebook account. I actually didn’t spend much time on that platform. It was just a place for people to post and repost meaningless garbage and superstitions. But it was useful for work purposes. I could put up a post about my latest book or give people information on any conferences I’d be speaking at. I had 78 patents to my name in the States and 149 internationally so I had just a tiny bit of name recognition.

When I first got the message I thought it was a hoax. They had to be scam artists who were trying to steal money from me. One day out of the blue some girl was saying she was my daughter. Yeah right. As if. No way. No fucking way.

Not only was she saying she was my daughter but she was saying she had a sister who was also my daughter. Sorry. Then I knew it had to be complete and utter bullshit. I had never been with a woman long enough to get her pregnant twice and I never did go backs. Once a relationship is over I have a rule to never date that woman ever again. I was very strict about it.

The really good thing about facebook is you can ignore it. I hardly went there anyway and when I saw the message it was already two or three months old. I just deleted it and forgot about it.

A month later I was going to be doing a talk on the future of open source development in the wake of the new copyright laws and how many of the clauses in the older copy left licenses would be legally unenforceable. The new law was specifically bad for licenses that infected other files with copyleft. For myself I could see both sides of the issue but I questioned the intentions of the law makers on this. This was going to be CDDL vs GPL all over again.

I had to bring my sister with me even though I sort of thought that was a bad idea. I was not going to share a hotel room with her no matter how much she asked to ‘save money’. Screw that. I had plenty of money and I didn’t want to spend all weekend thinking about screwing her. Sure, she was 19 by now but she was still my sister. Bad thought. Bad fantasy. Get back in your room and don’t let me catch you trying to get out.

I put Consuela in a completely different hotel and when we went to the event I passed her to some artwork guys and then I ran off to the more technical circles. I had to get my mind right for my talk. I remember the guys were fawning over her because she was the most beautiful woman there. She looked like a model and by the end of the day she had actually become one. They were doing an impromptu photo shoot with her posing while holding the various logos of different open source projects.

After my talk I was signing some books when two beautiful young women came up to me. One of them looked scared and the other was more confident but angry.

“Hello.” the more confident one said.

“Hi.” I answered.

She handed me a book to sign. “It’s a present for my mom.” she said.

“Great. What’s her name?”

“Clara Worthington.”

My pen froze in my hand. I looked back up at her. I saw the resemblance. “I see.”

“We need to talk to you.”

“This isn’t really the right place.”

“Then where is the right place? We’ve been trying to get in contact with you for …”

“Here is my card. Or if you’re impatient you can wait a few minutes and let me get through this line and then we can talk over there.”

She snatched the card out of my hand and then stormed off with the other young woman in tow.

Now, you reading this have probably already figured out what was going on but I had honestly forgotten about the message on facebook. I didn’t really know what to think of that girl and I had no idea why she’d come to find me. I just hadn’t put two and two together.

The book signing was over and I found the two young women waiting for me in a cafe outside the convention hall. I ordered the strongest coffee they had as was my custom and I sat with the girls to hear why the first woman to ever break my heart was lashing out at me after all these years.

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