Daughter's Stinky Wooden Clogs.pdf

Molly skipped into the house after a long day of playing outside. Her best friend Suzie had come over and they had run wild through the backyard, playing tag, hide-and-seek, and climbing trees. Molly's red wooden clogs were dirty and stinky from all the outdoor adventures.

"Daddy, I'm home!" Molly called out cheerfully. Her father John emerged from his study, glasses perched on his nose, a notepad in hand. He smiled at his daughter.

"Hello sweetie, how was your day?" John asked, leaning down to kiss Molly's forehead.

"It was great! Suzie and I had so much fun playing. Oh, and something weird happened...I think I stepped on a bug in my right clog." Molly made a grossed-out face.

"Oh no, that is weird! Well, let's take off those dirty shoes and get you cleaned up," John said. Molly plopped down on the couch and John knelt to remove her damp, filthy clogs. The pungent smell of sweaty feet and shoe funk filled John's nostrils.

As he set the clogs aside, John couldn't help inhaling deeply, savoring the ripe stink. He felt his penis stir to life, an electric tingle of arousal. John quickly handed the shoes to Molly.

"Can you put these away for Daddy? I need to go use the restroom," he said, voice a little shaky.

"Sure thing, Daddy," Molly said, hopping up. She took the reeking clogs and headed for the mudroom.

The second Molly was out of sight, John bolted to his study and closed the door. His cock was rock hard, throbbing with need. He grabbed the discarded clog, the one Molly had said she stepped on a bug with, and pressed his nose into the crevices of the dirty sole. The pungent bouquet of foot sweat, decaying bug, and shoe leather enveloped him.

"Oh fuck, that's it," John groaned, sliding to his knees. He rubbed the filthy sole all over his face, inhaling the ripe aromas. His cock ached, an angry red shaft jutting from his unzipped pants. John gripped it and started to stroke, panting as he humped the dirty shoe sole against his face.

"Yes.. So fucking nasty," John grunted, bucking his hips. The depravity of sniffing his own daughter's bug-splattered shoe made him throb with need. He could picture Molly's little feet, white with a dusting of dirt, wiggling in the sweaty clog. The image sent a shiver through him.

"Molly... Daddy's little girl... Smell so good," John panted deliriously, furiously fisting his cock. He shoved his tongue into the humid clog crevasse, lapping up the musky foot sweat. The tang of bug guts only heightened his frenzy.

John humped the shoe faster, mind reeling with perverse fantasies of Molly. Of tasting her dirty feet, sucking her toes, worshipping her little-girl stink. The taboo depravity pushed him over the edge.

"Oh fuck, fuck!" John groaned. His balls tightened and he exploded, painting the dirty clog sole with thick spurts of cum. He kept humping until he was spent, the shoe glistening with his shameful seed.

For a long moment, John just knelt there, slumped and panting, the reeking clog clutched in his hands. The reality of what he'd just done crashed over him like a bucket of ice water.

Shame flooded his veins, cools his lust to a sickening regret. He'd defiled himself with his own daughter's filth. And cummed to it. The depravity made him gag.

John wiped himself off with a shaking hand. He knew he had to destroy the evidence before Molly found it. He shoved the dirty clog into a plastic bag and tied it off, then hid it at the bottom of the trash.

For the rest of the evening, John couldn't look his daughter in the eye, too consumed by humiliation. He barely touched his dinner, mind still reeling.

Molly chattered on about her day, oblivious to her father's dark secret. John just nodded and smiled, feeling like the worst kind of pervert. What was wrong with him?

He knew this was only the beginning of a dangerous obsession. The taboo thrill of sniffing his daughter's unwashed feet, her little-girl musk, had awoken a lust he didn't know how to control. John feared he would keep going back for more, each time sinking a little deeper into depravity.

As he lay in bed that night, John stared at the ceiling, stomach churning with anxiety. He'd crossed a line and there was no going back. His sick urges would consume him, one dirty clog at a time. He was utterly powerless against the twisted desires devouring his soul.

And yet, even as shame ate at him, John felt that familiar tingle of excitement. Those clogs were still out there, steeping in Molly's ripe essence. It would be so easy to sneak into the mudroom and fish them out, just for a quick sniff. One more hit of that intoxicating, forbidden stink...

John squeezed his eyes shut, head throbbing. He knew he'd give in eventually. The pull was too strong, the taboo thrill too electric. He would dip back into depravity's murky waters.

But that was a problem for another day. For now, John just needed to survive the night, praying he wouldn't lose control and do something truly unforgivable. Like molesting his own daughter in her sleep.

John's perverse universe had no bottom, only an endless abyss of depravity. And he was powerless to stop his own free-fall into the gutter of his sick soul. The worst was yet to come.