The Monster

Sixteen years I have stayed here. Sixteen years I fucked my daughter as our daughter watched us. Her mother named her Thea and I loved her. She would sit alone and then talk to me about anything that crossed her mind. When she was ten, she could hear me. I would answer her and she would laugh and she was happy. One day she watched openly as I fucked her mother into oblivion and then asked me why I did it. With the woman lying naked on the kitchen floor where I had left her in post orgasmic bliss, I explained to this child of mine that I had to have sex or would die without it. I told her that her mother and her grandmother and great grandfather had all been my children as had others down her family line. I told her of my great need to impregnate my children and that I had no control over this need. She told me that she would willingly have my child as she loved me. She would willingly feed me so I never starved again.

That night I took Thea gently in her bed as her mother slept on. We fucked for hours and I was content. I didn't feel the need to give Thea my child, only my love. For a week, I had her every night, all night and I slept with her after that. Holding this child in my arms and keeping her safe. I had fucked her mother only during the day and rarely when Thea was home. She could sense me and the fact I wasn't fucking her made her testy and spiteful. Finally the day came while she was bitching at Thea that she was late from school, Thea told her to deal with the fact she wasn't being fucked by me all the time. That I had fucked her because she was a sex toy and I would marry one but it would never be her. This daughter of mine had thought to hold me to her but I was never dying and would not commit to such a relationship. She screamed her anger and struck our child and then later that night, she killed herself.

Thea stayed in her house and any who tried to take it from her, dealt with me. They would deal with nightmares of pain and fury and leave her in her house. I stayed with this child of mine, in her life and in her bed. And still I had no desire to give her my child. At about the age of twenty-five I noticed that Thea had stopped aging and looked no older than twenty. Forty years would pass with her and she still looked the same. She was my wife in all sense of the word but the actual ceremony. Thea was happy with the way we were and finally asked me to give her a child for me. That night I fucked her passionately and gave her the child she wanted from me. This new daughter was most unusual. She saw me and reacted to my presence from birth. She smiled and talked to me in her baby talk and her mother was happy. As Kathleen grew, Thea told her of me and taught her that one day too, she would fuck me and bear my child. For some reason this did not sit well with me. I told not, Thea of my uneasiness in this new daughter of mine bearing my child. I had begun to suspect something about Thea. My daughter began to age and grow old as this new child of mine grew.

Kathleen was beautiful and I was entranced by her. She was as lovely as the woman who I had first fucked, long ago in that hotel room. Thea had no idea that our daughter made my lust rise as she grew. The day Kathleen turned eighteen, Thea took sick and died from illness. I knew that during our forty years where she had not aged, Thea had never been sick. I was reluctant to fuck this daughter but one night a month after Thea died, I joined her in her bed when she asked me to fuck her. I held her gently and took that which was mine to take. For she had freely given me her virginity. But the desire to fill her belly did not hit me and I enjoyed her all through the night. For one hundred and fifty years, I lived with this child of mine. Kathleen, like her mother before her, had stopped aging. When I felt the need to travel, this child of mine traveled with me. She was the companion that I had longed for. But she began to desire for a child. No other than mine. I tried to tell her that she would grow old and die if I gave her what she desired. How those of my children in her line do not live to become old and distasteful to me but she would not listen. So on the anniversary of the night I first took her, one hundred and fifty one years later, I gave her my child. And then I left.