"Where the hell have you been?" Peter demanded from the dining table the moment Bethany burst through the front door. "And what are you wearing?"

Bethany didn't answer. She just stood there, sobbing, her clothes clutched in her arms, her face a mess of tears and snot.

Alex sat at the table, dressed in a tight red dress and high heels. They looked at Bethany, a faint smile playing on their lips.

Peter's expression softened slightly as he saw his younger daughter's distress.

"What's wrong?" he asked cautiously.

"Nothing," Bethany choked out. "J-just let me go to bed."

Peter sighed.

"Alright," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "Go."

Bethany didn't need to be told twice. They watched her stumble up the stairs, her small frame shaking with sobs, before hearing her bedroom door slam shut.

Alex took a slow sip of wine.

"Well," they said, setting the glass down. "That was dramatic."

Peter eyed his older child.

"She's at that age," he said dismissively. "Let's not worry about her tonight."

He reached across the table and took Alex's hand. His thumb stroked the back of it, a familiar, possessive gesture.

"So," he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "About that father-daughter time..."

Alex smiled demurely, tilting their head.

"We haven't even had desert yet," they said coyly.

Peter chuckled.

"Oh, I think I'm about to get my desert," he said. "And I'd like to have it right here. At this table."

Alex raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across their face. They stood up and walked around the table to where their father was sitting.

Peter turned the chair to face them, his eyes dark with desire.

Alex straddled his lap, their dress riding up to expose their thighs. They wrapped their arms around his neck, pulling his face close.

"Daddy," they whispered, their breath warm against his ear. "I've been a bad girl."

Peter groaned, his hands roaming over Alex's body, one sliding up to cup a breast, the other gripping their ass.

"I know you have," he growled. "And I'm going to have to punish you."

He lifted Alex enough to unzip his fly, freeing his already hard cock. Then he positioned himself, the head of his cock pressing against Alex's tight asshole.

He entered them in one smooth, powerful thrust.

Alex cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure, their body arching against his. Their cock began to swell.

Unlike Sheldon, their father didn't seem to mind that part of them.

He started to move, his hips bucking upwards, driving his cock deeper and deeper into Alex's ass.

"Harder, Daddy," Alex moaned, meeting his thrusts, their bodies slapping together in a frantic rhythm. "Punish me for being a filthy little slut."

The words seemed to drive him wild. He gripped their hips, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more demanding.

"That's it," he grunted. "Take it. Take all of it."

The friction against Alex's prostate was overwhelming. They felt their orgasm building, a hot, tight coil in their belly.

"I'm going to come, Daddy," they whimpered.

"Come for me, baby," he commanded.

And with a cry, Alex did, their cock spurting hot cum across their father's shirt.

He followed them a moment later, his own release filling Alex's ass with thick, warm liquid.

For a moment, they just stayed there, tangled together, their breathing ragged.

Then, with a sigh, Alex slid off his lap, his cum dripping down their thigh. They smoothed their dress down.

"Best desert I've had in a while," Alex said, their voice husky.

Peter smirked, a satisfied look on his face as he looked at the mess on his shirt.

"Don't expect a second helping," he said. "I'm too old for two rounds on a school night."

Alex just smiled. A knowing, triumphant smile.

***

It was after midnight when Bethany woke, covered in a cold sweat.

She stumbled to the bathroom, her body trembling. She flipped on the light and squinted, her reflection staring back at her. Pale, haunted, her eyes wide with a feverish glint.

"Wha..." she heard her father mutter as he shuffled into the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Bethany..."

She looked at him, seeing his eyes widen.

"What?" she mumbled, before she was able to trace his gaze to her lower abdomen.

She gasped at her distended belly.

"I can't believe it. That is what this is all about," Peter said, his voice low and filled with a dawning horror. "He... that 'Sheldon' boy you were fighting about. He... knocked you up!"

Bethany stared at him, her mind reeling. The cramping. The feeling of being full. It couldn't be. Her belly was perfectly flat just a few hours ago.

"No," she whispered, a strangled sound. "Daddy..."

"You're 14. 14!" he raged, partly with parental anger, partly with a possessive jealousy. Another man's child was growing in what he thought might eventually be his territory. A vein started to bulge on his forehead. "You whore!"

"It's not..." she stammered. "I'm not pre..."

A rise of bile and acid burned her throat. She clapped a hand over her mouth and spun around, vomiting into the toilet. The retching was violent, her stomach heaving.

Peter took a deep breath, sighing.

"Yeah," he shook his head. "Clearly."

He turned and walked out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Breathing heavily, she took out her phone again, her hands shaking. She just needed something to cling to. She needed someone to tell her she wasn't going crazy.

Three new messages from Clara since she went to bed.

'WTF is happening' read the first one.

'My parents are flipping' read the second.

'Really sucks' read the third.

Bethany replied.

'My dad thinks I'm preggo' she typed out, her thumbs hovering over the keyboard. 'Cant be, rite?'

Then another cramp, sharp and twisting, seized her. She dropped the phone on the tiled floor with a clatter as she vomited once more into the bowl.

She remained there, huddled over the toilet, shivering. She looked at her reflection again, at the swell of her stomach.

What was happening to her?

She pressed her hand against her belly. It hurt, a deep, internal ache.

Maybe... maybe Sheldon did get her pregnant. But he always used a condom with her. Well, usually. How can she have gone to sleep with a flat stomach and wake up looking like she's in the second trimester? Her period had also been perfectly normal.

Bethany stayed there for hours, drifting in and out of a painful, feverish sleep on the cold bathroom tiles.