Alice Ch. 02

"Why are you here?" he demanded. There was no more gentleness in his voice now.

"I don't know, sir."

"Oh yes you do. Why did you get sent to your headmaster's office?" SMACK, the impact pushing her forward now. "Why didn't you run screaming from my house within minutes?" SMACK "Why did you undress for me?" SMACK "Why did you dress up for me?" SMACK "Why did you let me touch you?" SMACK, she gritted her teeth and shut her eyes tight. "Why did you let me touch you?" SMACK, her glasses fell off. "Why did you cum on my fingers sitting in my lap?" SMACK "Why did you call me Daddy?" SMACK "Why did you let me hit you in the restaurant and help me get away with it?" SMACK "Why did you come back to my house and put on your school uniform for me?" ...SMACK.

"I... because..."

"Because?"

"Because I'm a slut, sir..."

"That's right," his fingers slipped down between her cheeks, finding that soft, hot, wet place in between and stroking at it, "you are a slut. What do you think your friends, your teachers, your family would think if they saw you here now? The good little Catholic schoolgirl bent over my sofa, having her pussy rubbed, getting wet for me, pushing her little cunt back at me like the needy little slut she is?" Her cheeks reddened, realising she had been pushing back, but it only made her push more. She gave a pathetic whimper. "Why are you pushing back, Alice? Why did you put on these socks for me? This skirt? That tight little blouse? Why are you bent over in front of me and not scrambling to escape?"

"B....because I want to get fucked, sir."

"Do you now?"

"Oh god, Daddy, please fuck me!"

"Now why would I do that?" he grinned, though she could not see.

"Fuck, Daddy, because I'll be a good little girl for you, because I'll be your tight little virgin and I'll suck your cock like the fucking whore I am. Please, God, Daddy, just fuck me, please!" she reached behind herself, pulling her soaked, white panties down. She couldn't get them down very far, but it was enough. For the first time he looked at her exposed cunt. A sweet, fat little thing, squished between her arse cheeks. It glistened in the light, perfect and hairless. That was hardly a surprise to him.

He went at her then, grabbing her around the throat with one hand, unzipping his slacks faster than seemed possible. He took his cock in his hand and pushed the head up against her slit.

"Beg for it, sweetie."

"Fuck, Daddy, please fuck me. Please. Make me your bitch, make me your doll, your fucktoy, your little whore. You know you want it, Daddy, you know I'll be so tight for you, I'll-" He couldn't take it any longer, his fingers tightened on her neck, strangling off her words, and he thrust himself inside her, splitting open her gorgeous pussy. It gripped at his cock so hard he might have mistaken it for her asshole. When he felt resistance he stopped, closing his eyes and breathing deep, drinking in this moment.

"Do you want me to break you, baby?" She knew what he meant, she'd felt it too.

"Yes, Daddy. Please, I want it so much, please break me." He took his hand from her throat and put both hands on her hips, his thumbs running circles on her ass. He gazed down at her sex, and eased himself further into her. He didn't feel much, but she did, she felt something tear, something break. It didn't feel like it was her, like it would if she were cut, more like when your fingers are stuck together and you spread them, but it was an incredible feeling: liberating, freeing... but dirty, and humiliating. She felt like such a slut, like she was being defiled, and she loved it...

He pulled away, dragging his cock through her, letting her feel every contour. Coming to her entrance he saw there was a little blood, but not much. He changed direction, sliding back inside her, giving her long, rhythmic strokes that made her whimper.

"That's it, good girl. Bite down on my cock, baby. You're going to be a good pussy for me, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir..."

"And you know what good pussies do? They masturbate cocks like mine. They do everything they can to please those cocks. Are you going to be a good pussy, baby?"

"Oh God! Yes, sir!" She ground back into him, and as he built the pace her whimpers turned into moans. When he started truly fucking her, moans turned into screams.

"Fuck!" she cried, between screams, "make me your bitch! Make me your fucking whore! Please, Daddy, use me! I want to please your cock!" He grunted, sweating. He tried to unbutton his shirt but gave up and tore it off. His balls slapped against her clit now. Her arms had collapsed underneath her and every stroke of his cock slamming into her drove her face into the seat of the sofa. His breathing grew faster and more ragged.

"Please, sir..."

"Please... what?

"Please... please cum in me. Please cum in your little girl... I want you to cum inside of me, Daddy." That sent him over the edge. He let out a shivering moan and dug his fingers into her cheeks, thrusting himself deep into her and holding there, pumping load after load of hot cum inside her, filling her up. She felt it splash inside her, that beautiful liquid heat, and she moaned with him. When he was spent, he fell on top of her, his chest resting on her back, and his breath roaring in her left ear.

He rested a moment, then nibbled at her ear, and whispered, "Good girl." She welled up with pride, with happiness, with bliss, and closed her eyes.

After a while, he picked himself up and started to towel himself down with his ruined shirt. His cock still hung from his trousers. Alice crawled onto the sofa and pulled herself around to face him. He watched her sideways as she unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off. Her eyes locked with his. She pulled off her bra too, and spread her legs, lifting her skirt. Underneath, he spied her well fucked pussy, a glob of cum nestling at its entrance, ever so slowly oozing out of her. His eyes went back to her face, and she was still looking straight at him. Silently, she touched her breasts. It was obvious she didn't really know what she was doing, she'd have won no points in a strip tease competition... but he felt himself grow hard again none the less. Whether she was 'doing it right' or not didn't matter. She was doing it, she wanted him to look and she wanted him to get hard looking. That wasn't all she wanted.

She slipped a hand down her body and folded back her skirt, giving a better view of her cunt. She rubbed at her clit, licking her lips, and then slipped a finger inside herself, slowly finger fucking her used cunt. She shut her eyes briefly, miming a moan. His cock was decidedly stiff by now. Then she scooped up that glob of cum on the tip of her finger and took it to her lips. She looked at him again with a sly smile, and sucked it seductively off her finger.

"Fuck!" he breathed and bounded to her, grabbing her by the hair at the back of her head, painfully wrenching her down onto all fours on the sofa. He pulled her head to the side and thrust his cock into her waiting mouth. He fucked her face at first, then slowed, letting her hungry mouth work up and down his shaft, her eyes fixed on his. He put out a hand, slipping it around behind her and played with her pussy. When he put his fingers in her she moaned onto his dick, the vibrations heavenly. She bobbed her head up and down. She didn't use her tongue much, but that was fine, she'd learn. He circled her clit, slowly at first, which made her take her mouth off him for a moment to gasp.

As she went back to sucking him he built speed and felt her lips tighten on him. His hand worked furiously on her, the slick juices letting him rub smoothly as fast as he could move. Her moans became constant and he felt her tense, then shudder. She pulled her behind down away from his hand and let his cock slip out of her mouth, screaming, the orgasm going on all by itself. He grabbed her head again, and put his cock back in. She screamed on to it, but he didn't care, he thrust into her, choking her, gagging her, punishing her for being such a tease, then exploded, pouring hot semen onto her tongue. She looked up at him and he pulled out of her, his tender cock drooping in front of her. She gazed into his eyes, puppy-like, and swallowed for him. Then ducked her head and sought out the tip of his cock, gently closing her lips on it, giving it the lightest of sucks. He stroked her hair, smiling, and bent to kiss her. She scooted up and sat on the edge of the sofa.

"Will you do something for me?" he asked. She sucked on her bottom lip and nodded. "You want to make me happy, don't you?" she nodded again.

He hit her then, not a slap or a smack, but a punch. There was no pain, just a concussive force, a pressure, a noise like pressing on your ears or being thrust under water. A heat.

His fist caught her in the mouth, knocking her back into the sofa. He leapt forward, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her onto her feet before punching her again, this time connecting with the bone around her eye. She yelped and fell to the floor. He stood over her. She didn't move to run, but lay there, curled up a little. Dan unbuckled his belt, slipping it out of the loops of his trousers and folding it over in his hands. The crook of the leather lashed out viscously, catching her on the arm, the ribs, the back. He whipped her thighs, her calves, her behind, striking her all over. He alternated between stinging snaps of it, and hard thuds. She sobbed and cried out as he hit her. Then he turned it over, and laid into her with the buckle, bringing out deep welts.

This was different to the caning. Then, it had been a punishment, arranged and formal. It was different to the face slapping and spanking too. Those had still had an air of formality, and with the slapping in particular it had been gentle as well. All three had been controlled and measured but this was not. It was pure, raw, unbridled. He was doing violence to her.

He grabbed her by her ankle and dragged her across the floor a way, then barked at her to stand up. She didn't, and he beat her again. Then she did.

On quaking legs she looked at him, tears streaming down her face. The look in his eyes was the same as before, when he had choked her; when she had touched herself on the sofa, but it was more intense now. He pulled back, and struck her with the back of his hand, blood smearing across his knuckles. Then the hand came back, slapping her in the other direction, stinging her cheek. Then his left came at her, knocking her back, the door frame catching her and knocking the wind out of her. She collapsed onto all fours.

He went to the sideboard, and she watched him go, not wanting him to leave. A drawer slid open and he pulled out something, walking back towards her. She sat up suddenly, scrabbling back into a corner. It was blued steel, over nine inches end to end, with wooden grips. Her vision turned to a tunnel and focussed in on finger tips dropping bright, brass cartridges into six black holes. The cylinder clicked into place. She wanted to scream but he was at her too quick, pressing the muzzle into the side of her head. She yelped instead.

"You scared of this? Huh? You need to be scared of me. Are you scared? Huh? Are you scared, little girl?"

"Yes!" she cried, shutting her eyes.

He pushed her up against the wall, leering over her with his body, intimidating her with his presence. "And what do little girls do when they're scared?"

"I... I don't know... Please, please, I don't want to do this anymore, I-"

"Shut up! You're gonna do what I want you to do, do you understand?"

"Yes!" she tried to flinch away but he was holding her too tight, fingers pinching painfully into her flesh. He moved the gun so that it was pointing straight at her teeth. She screamed then, terror gripping her. He pushed it against her lips.

"Take it!" he barked. "Now!" She complied, opening her quivering mouth and letting the barrel slide inside.

"You said you wanted to make me happy, I want to see you make me happy."

She couldn't speak right with the gun in her mouth, but Dan could just make out, "I don't know what you want!" her awkward words full of despair. Then he cocked the revolver, the hammer clicking into place, and she wet herself. Hot pee coursed down her legs, pooling on the floor. She wailed onto the barrel and shook; from fear, from embarrassment, from that empty sick feeling in her stomach. She wanted to throw up.

There was another click, but softer now. Dan lowered the hammer and slowly withdrew the barrel, letting his arm fall to his side. He knelt down and laid it on the floor, pushing it away, and held his little girl. He rocked backwards and forwards with her, shushing her and stroking her hair. She sobbed into his shoulder, hugging him tight with slender arms. He was so warm, so safe. She never wanted to let go. When her sobs died down, he kissed her briefly on the lips, then scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom. He sat her down on the toilet, and undressed her, gently minding her bruises and cuts. He turned the shower on and checked it was steamily warm, then guided her in. He pulled off his trousers, shoes and socks, and stepped in behind her, scrubbing her body, washing her hair, kissing her neck and ear. When she was clean, he turned off the flow and led her out, grabbing a big, white towel and wrapping it around her. He took another, and rubbed her down, soaking up all the little droplets of water. Then he sat her down again and did her legs, and she smiled at him.

He took a first aid kit out of a cupboard and cleaned her grazes, pressed a cool pack against her blossoming black eye, and wiped the blood from her split lip.

"Thank you, Daddy," she said when he was done. He smiled back and took a bath robe off the heated towel rack and wrapped her in it. It was so warm; she pulled it tight and snuggled up, pulling the collar high and grinning. She took his hand when he offered it and rose to a kiss before being lead up stairs. The house was palatial in size, but understated and simple. His bed, at least she assumed it was his, was enormous and he had laid out some pretty pink pyjamas for her, folded neatly. He pulled back a corner of the covers for her to slip into. As she did, he removed the bath robe and threw it in the corner, then passed her the pyjamas which she put on under the covers. He kissed her on the forehead and promised he would be back soon.

Some mopped up urine and a stored gun later, he crept back into the room. She was still awake, her face peeking out from a sea of duvets and pillows. He went around the bed, and slid in behind her, his warm body cuddling up to her. His arms around her, Alice drifted off to a blissful, peaceful sleep.