Bad Man’s Good Daughters Edited

Hi my handle is hard93. This is the edited version of my first story here.

I hope that you will enjoy it better. I’ve added a few story elements to add interest for those who have read my first version. It should make it worth the read.

The following story is all Fiction, with none of the events or characters based in reality. Not to say that the same the events written here do not occur in reality; there may be someone out there whose life resembles this story. It does contain sex with teenagers; if you find this offensive please discontinue reading. This story is about life, love and betrayal, how over coming pain can change your life. So enjoy.


How do we start this? I am Joe a 35-year-old man, I was married 17 years ago to a beautiful woman, she was a Latina beauty with mahogany eyes and hair, she was five foot, seven inches tall, hundred and fifteen pounds, 38C-25-38 with supermodel looks. She could stop traffic in a pair of tight blue jeans and tank top. Her major problem was she knew it. She gave me two beautiful daughters early in our marriage, now Amanda age sixteen and Megan age fourteen, both with dark hair almost black, deep brown eyes, and deep tan skin. They appear to be a younger version of the mother with the same supermodel looks.

As fate would have it she was taken from me just eight months ago. Five weeks ago her will was read. Then my world crumpled as I found out that both my daughters actually were not my children. What had been, up to my wife’s illness, a perfect life and family was a lie. According to a letter attached to the will, my deceased wife had being carrying on an affair during our early marriage. She had been blackmailed into her actions by her ex-boyfriend who had pictures and video of her being slutty. She didn’t want to chance losing my love. So she allowed him to have sex for his silence and a little cash from time to time. He insisted that they never used birth control as part of his Blackmail; as a result she became pregnant twice. Our prenuptial agreement would have left her absolutely nothing if it been consensual, leaving her with the burden of proving that she was blackmailed.

I had loved her desperately but doubt is a terrible thing, it will tear away at any belief. I’m not sure just how much I actually believe her. A fiction is easily written to make you out as the victim. Some facts could be checked, and a paternity test will confirm some of her statements. Given the infrequent sex life I had with her during our first three years of marriage the opportunity definitely was there. She claimed that she had ended his domination. Afterwards he died in a car accident just a day later. She gave his name, I’m managed to verify that is true he had died four months after Megan was born.

If my wife would have come to me, told me of this scheme to blackmail her when it began, I would have gotten private investigators to track down everything this man had. To make him stop I used every means; I’m dealt with the blackmailer. My family came from old money with its share of scandals. Blackmail stops when you stand up to them; by being ready to face the scandal, gather your evidence of the blackmail, and reverse it. I’m going to the police, you’re going to jail. Not always easy, but with professional help doable.

I make an appointment for both girls, telling them it’s an annual physical which it is, but also their DNA will be collected for verification. Given the results I may be changing my will I haven’t decided what I may do.

Life goes on, a few weeks after the girls appointment I received the DNA results. On reading, I do find that my fears are true, I am not their father. Both girls had the same father, matching my wife’s account. A little more digging in this man’s background I find is parents, and from them I retrieve materials he was using to blackmail my now dead wife. His father put $2000 I offered in exchange in his pocket. He then told me a different story that they were lovers. That she had kept him at her whim, using him whenever she had the itch, as he put it.

The blackmail materials had several DVDs showing that he was fucking my wife up to Megan’s conception, over most of the first three years of our marriage, some pictures which predate this. From the images on the DVDs, it did not appear any coercion was in use, but looked like the slut had enjoyed it. My suspicions were confirmed especially, when the bitch asked at the end of at least two of the recordings. “Same time tomorrow?”

As for the girls, in some way in my mind I stopped looking at them as my daughters. May be it was the fact that I watched the DVDs and from the time recorded I figured out which one she was impregnated on, and hearing her scream. “I POPPY CUM IN ME NOW, GIVE ME A BABY.” That was enough make me hate that woman. No matter what we shared after I will hate her for that. I can’t even say her name anymore.

Needless to say, I was greatly hurt, angry to the point of being totally enraged, and more confused than I ever had been by all this. The will instructed that the girls were not to know until after Megan reached her 18th birthday. The will gave me the guardianship of them. How do I look them in the eye and still act as a loving father.

The girls had nothing to do with that, they were innocent. When you do not understand why someone is angry you naturally believe it was something that you did. The girls believed something they were doing had enraged me. They didn’t go to the reading of the will, and not knowing of their mother’s infidelity or the circumstance of their birth had no idea what I was dealing with.

At one point, they asked me why I had begun to treat them differently. What have they done to make me angry at them?

“Why are you so pissed off Daddy? Did we do something to make you so mad?” Amanda asked one day after school. She had no way of knowing that I watched those damned DVDs while they were at school. I had no idea what I was hoping to find by watching them. So far all I’ve found with more pain.

“No Amanda, I’m sorry you didn’t do anything. I’m not mad at you or your sister.” When Amanda and Megan hugged me, I’m not sure if it was the fact I did not see them as my daughters, or they look so much like the woman I fell in love with. I found myself daydreaming about how good it would be to make them scream the same words their mother had. Her mother would role-play as one of them; I could hear Amanda screaming the words from one of our fantasy lovemaking adventures.

I had to excused myself and return to my room to sort out my feelings, on one hand I was angry enough at their mother to go through with it. Have them act out one of the recordings, me replacing their father and them their mother. I hated myself once I realized I was transferring my anger to them. Their innocence held me back, how could I do that to those girls who love me, as truly as any child could. At least I realize that they do not deserve any of the punishment that I would’ve dealt the two lovers.

I decided to treat the girls, as who they were, young, beautiful, and innocent, girls who knew nothing of their mothers treachery. I decided that I would enjoy their company as always to forgive them of their accidental birth. Because who can pick who your parents are.

Later that evening at dinner, Amanda had cooked. She had taken over many of the tasks her mother preformed. “I think you’re becoming a better cook than your mother ever was.”

Amanda said. “I miss mummy.” As she looks at me, a confused look comes over her face as I realize I did not hide my anger. She had no clue as to what a bitch her mother had been.
Amanda asked. “Why are you mad Daddy did I do something?”

“You did not, your mother did.” I blurted out before even thinking. Both girls were in tears seeing my anger not knowing the cause. Only that I was mad at the beloved mother for no known reason.

“I’m sorry it’s not you girls. I’m having a harder time with your mothers passing that I thought.” I’m not sure if that’s a lie or not, after the first three years our marriage was good, no it was great. She was very affectionate and playful; she took care of the house well, and was always there for the girls and me. She even initiated sex on many nights, I still missed that. She had become the perfect wife and mother. Then she fell ill, if not for her death, I may have never known.

The fact that she allow herself to get pregnant by him twice, and never by me. I’m having trouble getting over her betrayal; even if it started as blackmail it seems she began to enjoy it, more than me, or did she even love him more than me. That’s the idea that’s killing me. I’m going to have to let go of this anger. To move beyond it, so I can enjoy my life.

“Girls do you know what the seven stages of grieving are?” I asked to tears stained faces. As they slowly shake their head no.

“Everyone grieves differently and over different time periods for them, but there are seven stages everyone goes through. First shock and denial, second Pain and guilt, third anger and bargaining, forth depression and loneliness, fifth the upturn, sixth Reconstruction, seventh acceptance. I’m stuck in third. Sorry girls, this isn’t your fault you been wonderful, but I’ve been having a tough time.”

Both girls come around the table to comfort me by hugging me and kissing me on my cheeks.
“We love you Daddy.” Both girls say as they hold me tight for a few minutes.

After a while as they do their best to comfort me, all I managed to choke out with my emotions running so high is. “Thank you girls.”

They do make me feel better so I tell them. “I will clean up. You two go find something fun to do.”

Gathering and rinsing the dirty dishes and putting them into the dishwasher, I’m not paying much attention but all of a sudden I noticed the house is very quiet. Too quiet, anyone who has raised kids knows when it gets that quiet, go check on the kids there up to something. The last plate is loaded anyway, I quietly close the dishwasher. Walking quietly through the house to find what the girls are up to.

The living room lights are off, but I can tell that the widescreen TV is on. A cold chill runs down my spine as I realize I haven’t removed that damn DVD from the player. The sound must nearly be off because as I stand in the doorway I can barely hear anything. The girls are there with their hands over their mouth trying not to make any noise, as they watch the recording of their mother’s betrayal in total shock.

I hesitate not knowing how to break it to them or how much they should know. How much they have seen? I did not have to wait long for the answer to that question. I heard my wife’s voice, even though the TV’s speakers were at a very low volume it seemed to echo around the room. Perhaps a lie may be kinder than the truth. At least their mothers lie has some truth that I can show them. I will have to do a lot of damage control and quickly.

I turn on the lights the girls jump, Amanda quickly turns off the TV.

“Girls I’m sorry you saw that.” As I walk toward them to talk.

Amanda asks. “Daddy is that why you’re so pissed off?”

All I can do is shake my head yes in response. A tear is running down my cheek, sadness or frustration it doesn’t matter if there, and the girls see it.

“We’re sorry. We did not know.” Amanda begins with tears streaking down her face. I hold my arms out Amanda rushes into me holding me tightly crying on my chest. Megan comes and wraps herself around Amanda side and mine crying into my chest as well.

I’m doing my best to comfort both girls. Nothing seems to work, I began kissing them on the top of their heads. “Listen I love you and nothing else matters. You’re my girls and nothing else matters.” They finally look up as I say this. I gently kiss each on their forehead. The girls both say “I love you.”

“I never wanted you to know about that. In time I would have dealt with it and you would never have to know.”
Megan is extremely bright child near genius level, her math skills are exceptional, science and biology comes easily to her, even in advanced classes she still straight A+ student, but Book smart doesn’t always mean you have enough common sense to keep your mouth shut.

I don’t know when it came to her but she blurted out. “Did you see the date? The date on the video it was nine months before Amanda was born. What mom said did you hear that?” Amanda now cries uncontrollably into my chest, moaning. “No. No. No. No.” My heart is breaking knowing just how she feels.

She pulls away looking me in the face. “It’s.. Can’t be.. NO.. PLEASE NO!” She’s too upset to make a full sentence. Or she just reads the sad confirmation on my face, the same face she saw when I had to tell her some other painful news, about a pet, and then the same face when telling her about her grandparents and later her mother.

“I never wanted you to find out. It doesn’t matter, I love you.” I try to pull her back to me but she slips away and runs to her room.

I can feel Megan nervously shaking against me. “Daddy I look just like Amanda, if she wasn’t two years older than me people would say we’re twins.” Before I can say anything Megan reads my same expression that Amanda did and she knows as well.

“I love you Megan, nothing else matters.”

Megan grows angry and shouts. “HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT? IT MATTERS. MY MOTHER WAS A BITCH TO HURT YOU. I DON’T KNOW EVEN WHO I AM.” She pulls away and runs to her room slamming her door.
Feel like smashing the whole DVD player right through the TV. I’m so mad at myself for leaving that damn disk in it. How could I let this happen? Why was I so careless with that damned disk?

I don’t want to talk to the girls when I’m in this state. Anger makes for poor negotiating. I do my best to calm down and bring myself under control. It takes several minutes before I am calm enough to handle talking to the girls. I’ll start with Amanda.

I knock on Amanda’s door, waiting a few moments knock one more time, without a response I open her door. Amanda is on her bed with her face buried in her pillow weeping uncontrollably. I walk over setting down on her bed and start gently rubbing her back. I sat there just gently rubbing her back without saying anything. After a very long time, her tears begin to stop. She rolls over and looks me in my eyes.

Why would she do something like that? She knew how much it would hurt you. She told me to never cheat on the man I love. She knew it was wrong but she did it anyway.” Amanda is hurt and frightened. I can only imagine what’s going through her mind, her mother is dead. I’m not her father. Is she afraid that I may reject her? Send her to that man she doesn’t know. What if he rejects her too? She could be an orphan poor and homeless?

“Yes Amanda I am mad and hurt, by what she did. She said she was blackmailed into doing those things, he had pictures of her, that she did not want anyone to see.”

“Blackmail dad, I don’t believe it. That is bill shit; she was enjoying herself a woman can tell. She was a bitch to hurt you. And now that you know,”

I cut her off before she could say anything else. “Amanda I love you, I fed you, changed you, set with you when you’re sick. I held you when you cried. I’ve been your dad from the day you were born.