Chapter Seventeen: Guilt, Anger, and Defiance
(M/f, rape, violence)
George’s temporarily pacified brat-of-a-daughter became more defiant than ever in the days following her trip to his boss’s house.
He didn’t understand what had changed. When he picked her up from the fat-ass prick’s house she’d been quiet and obviously exhausted, but it hadn’t appeared that she’d been hurt. That night, in fact, George had stole into her bedroom to inspect her body but had found nothing more than slight scratches on her otherwise smooth, soft back. Her pussy was sort of red, but that was expected, and as far as he could tell she hadn’t even been corn-holed.
So what was the big deal? So yet another guy had fucked her, so what? Why the sudden change in her attitude?
That change had begun the very next day. At first it was just small things, like rolling her eyes at him again when he gave her orders. It wasn’t long before she began talking back to him, though, and eventually she even began defying him.
He overlooked these transgressions at first, perhaps out of guilt. But then, the following Wednesday, the 50-something Vietnam vet got home from work to find his daughter watching a disgustingly illegal porn-movie on his DVD player. It was obviously an amateur-made movie starring two girls no older than ten jerking off a man old enough to be their father. And she, his teenage daughter, was sitting in his chair watching this trash, rubbing herself between her legs under her tiny, slutty little skirt.
“What the fuck are you watching?!” he screamed after she ignored his presence.
The little brat had responded slowly, bringing her large pretty eyes around to stare up at him. She didn't discontinue her masturbation when she said, “Uhm, isn’t it obvious?”
That made him fly into a rage. After marching over to the entertainment system he tore the DVD out of the player, calling his daughter the most horrible things he could think of before snapping the silver disc in two right in front of her eyes. It might have stopped there but then the little bitch smirked at him. In response he grabbed her by her hair and thew her to the floor, almost causing her to crack her head against the coffee table.
“This shit in my house?!?” he'd growled at the shaken girl. He watched as the little slut groaned for a second and then touched her lip. There was blood there. But rather than feel any guilt or remorse, George grew angrier than ever.
In a flash he was on her. He got on top of her small body in seconds and forced the struggling girl’s arms above her head. He held them there by her wrists with one hand while he practically spit in her face, screaming and cursing and letting all the frustrations he'd been feeling lately boil to the surface.
She never cried, though. Despite her obvious fear all the little slut did was squirm and clench her eyes shut and struggle her body around in a vain attempt to dislodge him. And after his rage was spent he suddenly realized how nice and soft her little body felt beneath his, squirming to and fro. His eyes went down to her heaving chest, and her slight cleavage. It didn't take long before his cock began to stir. Breathing hard and cursing underneath his breath, the enraged father suddenly used his free hand to unzip his jeans and pull out his throbbing cock. It took only a few seconds before he began to probe it underneath his daughter’s skirt in a frenzy, all the while cursing her for her perversity, for bringing such terrible porn into his house, for being such an awful, dirty slut.
“You're my slut, mine! Remember?” he hissed into the struggling girl's ear. “Not some nasty pervert-pedophile, you damn bitch, you damn whore!”
While he reprimanded her verbally he continued to probe his cock between her teenage legs. She wasn’t wearing panties, which wasn’t a surprise, and soon his cock-head found the glistening wet hole of his daughter’s sex. When his member made contact with her cunt her struggle renewed. But on top of her, there between the coffee table and the recliner, she stood no chance of dislodging him. Soon he was able to angrily press his dick into her tight confines at which point something strange happened: she relaxed. Then she gasped. And then she began to laugh.
This infuriated him all the more. He hadn’t fucked her since before sending her to his boss’s house, and he was due, and she was trying to ruin it by laughing at him. At him, her own father! Had her laughter been meant to criticize the size of his cock? He knew he was well endowed, but was she implying that that fat-fuck's cock was bigger? Or was the teeny-tramp laughing at his hypocrisy?
He screamed for her to shut the fuck up. And then, with an angry and brutal thrust of his hips, George savagely stabbed himself deep inside his daughter's cunt as though his cock were a blade he could brutally murder her with.
She never stopped laughing, though. Instead she laughed harder as he violently raped his cock in and out of her hole. She wasn’t fazed by any of this. Indeed, it was as though she was egging him on.
“Come on, Daddy, rape your daughter!” she began to laugh breathlessly, a smile on her pretty, if shaken, face. “That’s so much better than watching illegal porn!”
The sarcastic comment had made him growl and suddenly begin to smack her, once, twice, three times across that gorgeous, tender face of hers. It didn’t daze the red-headed brat one bit, though, nor did she lose her smile.
Finally, then, he settled into simply cursing at her. Cursing her, and fucking her, and pushing his free hand up under her tight blouse to grip and squeeze her braless tits. He tuned her words out as he rutted his cock in and out of her taut 14-year-old cunt. At that moment what he really needed was to get off, to release some steam, and the feeling of her damp, velvety innards squeezing his dick was doing just that. He became lost in the sensation as he fucked in and out of his daughter’s developing womanhood.
When he came he purposefully came deep inside her, dumping his seed as far back in her womb as possible. It felt good to crush his hips against her when he did, to finally let go of her wrists and crush her growing breasts with them instead. He roared out in anger and relief for nearly a whole minute until he spilled the last of his seed.
George's rage shriveled away with his hard-on. After resting a moment on top of his daughter he had managed to stand up and collect himself and think. What had just happened? Even now George didn't know. And at that moment, looking down upon the form of his daughter with her creamy white legs splayed wide and his cum dribbling out from her pussy, he had been equally clueless. What had confused him the most, though, probably had nothing to do with her rattled, raped body. It was the look on the teenager's face: a knowing, almost smug, expression. The little twat had been looking down at him from the floor, defying him even after he’d raped her.
At that particular moment, though, the exhausted and spent man hadn’t known what to do about it. Rather than speak he’d simply turned away and gone to the stairs. Before reaching the top he could have sworn he’d heard her voice coming from the living room. She had said one word.
“Hypocrite.”
*****
Her behavior only got worse the day after that.
He’d demanded that she return home straight after school but he had returned from work to an empty house. And after she’d finally returned later that night she’d been drunk, and belligerent, and totally defiant.
What was he to do? Hit her again? Hit her harder, really teach her a lesson? The thought had crossed his mind. Her winter break would be starting on Monday and she’d be off of school for a week. He could beat the shit out of her and she’d have a week to heal at home before going back.
Yet, somehow, George couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he had fucked the drunk girl again, making sure she was properly naked this time before bending her over the edge of her own bed and doing her from behind. She hadn’t cared, she hadn’t resisted, but she had done some more of that infernal laughing.
At work things were getting out of hand, too. That Friday he almost punched out one of his co-workers for making a lewd comment about some 14-year-old kid walking by the construction site.
“I have a daughter that age, asshole!” he’d growled.
The man, whom George had never liked anyway, had simply grinned. “Hey, Georgy, you know what they say! If there’s turf on the field play ball!”
The comment had brought on laughter from some of the others, but George had snapped. Had his old friend Roy not grabbed him from behind and somehow pulled him back George would have knocked the guy’s teeth out.
“What the hell is the matter with you?!” Roy had demanded a moment later. “You already got a cunt-hair away from losing your job a few days ago, man!”
What is wrong with me? George had thought.
Maybe it was the presence of the fat lard on-site. The swaggering little shit-ball seemed to come up with any excuse now to visit nearby where George worked. The motherless asshole was rubbing it in with every look, every word, every step he made.
“I fucked your daughter!” he was saying.
Of course he never actually spoke those words. In fact, the fat-tub hadn’t mentioned a thing about his day spent with Amy. More than that, he actually kissed George’s ass now in front of everyone else. But in his head George could hear the words his boss really wanted to speak: “I did things to your daughter you’ll never even know about! I fucked her good, you fucking loser! I fucked your baby-slut-of-a-girl and I made her beg for more, and now I’ve ruined her for you. You’ll never have her back now, you dumb shit! And the best part is, you let me do it just to save your stinking, dead-end job…”
So work was intolerable, and home with Amy was intolerable. And finally Saturday came.
He had big plans for the day, actually. An old war buddy from out of town was staying in the city for some sort of business convention and, come evening, George was supposed to go visit him. It would be good to see the son-of-a-bitch again. It would be good to spend an evening downtown, barhopping and swapping war stories about the good old days, the gook-killing days, with an old friend. There was just one problem, of course: Amy.
She’d come home late on Friday night just as she had on Thursday: drunk and defiant. He hadn’t fucked her on Friday, though. She was much too wasted for that, and he’d been much too frustrated and drunk himself anyway. Instead he’d put her to bed (as she couldn’t make it up the stairs without help) and pondered all night what he should do with her, wondering what had gone wrong.
Now it was almost two in the afternoon and the slut had just woken up. He could hear her stirring around upstairs and he still hadn’t a clue as to how and deal with her defiance.
He could obviously ground her, but she’d just sneak out while he was gone. He could tie her up, maybe do a repeat of that night he’d made her watch all that porn, but George planned on staying overnight at his friend’s hotel room. She might not handle being left tied up, alone, like that for so long. Besides, there was a significant chance that her friend, that Lessy-girl Amy was always mentioning, might come looking for her. That wouldn’t be good.
George could hear the upstairs shower running. Finally an idea occurred to him.
He rushed up the stairs quickly and made for Amy’s room. It only took him a moment to find her purse, and when he did, he tore it open. He had all the cash out of it in a second, and then he remembered her dresser.
He’d seen her stuff bills into a sock in there on his hidden cameras before and, sure enough, a little pink sock was bulging underneath a pair of his daughter’s panties. He pulled the crumpled bills out one at a time: $80. Her “secret stash” was his.
Still, maybe she hid money elsewhere, too. Maybe he’d missed something on his cameras. He began tearing through her closet. He found a half-filled jar full of coins and set that aside while he searched. He found an old, lost porn DVD of his, too, and set that aside as well. When he finished with the closet he moved to her desk and began rummaging through its drawers.
A few minutes later his daughter entered the room. She was wearing her pink bathrobe and had a white towel wrapped around her head. She looked angry.
“What are you doing!” she shrieked.
“Taking back what’s mine,” George growled. After slamming shut the last desk drawer he stood up and glared at her. “So long as you act like some bratty little bitch, you ain’t gettin’ no money from me, none!”
Her eyes were wide in shock, and her soft lips were parted slightly as though she meant to say something. Then she just shrugged.
“Fine,” she said, voice only slightly shaking. “Take my money. Did you find my stash in the sock?”
His eyes were grilling into her now. “I found all of it, and I mean it! No more fucking allowance till you start behavin’ yourself!”
Again the girl just shrugged as she took a seat on the edge of her bed. “Fine,” she said. “I can make my own money, if you’re gonna be like that.”
George scoffed. “What does a spoiled brat like you know about making money?”
“Uhm, Daddy? Duh, you’re the one who found out about me fucking for clothes at the mall,” she said, almost grinning suddenly. “Think I can’t do that again? This time for cash? If you’re not gonna pay for this pussy no more I’m sure there’s plenty who will!”
George hadn’t foreseen this turn of events. Angrily he marched toward her and grabbed his daughter by her slender shoulders. “I find you been pettlin’ your ass like some whore I swear to Christ I’ll…”
“What!” she grunted with almost a laugh. “What you going to do? Sell me to your boss again? Heck, maybe I’ll just cut out the middle man and sell myself! He seemed to really enjoy the shit he done to me last weekend, I bet he’d pay a lot for a repeat!”
George’s eyes were burning, now. He felt his stomach tightening and his face was flushing red. “What did he do to you, Amy?” George growled, giving her a shake. “What did he fucking do!?”
“Now you fucking care?!” she snapped. George could see tears in her eyes all of a sudden. “You sold me out to him, Daddy! Why should you care what he did? All I know is he liked doing it, the sick fucking asshole really liked it! I bet he’ll like it a lot more if I done call him, now, and beg for more! Bet he’d pay a lot for Act Two!”
“I swear to Christ, girl, I swear…” George started to threaten.
“Fuck you!” she yelled, suddenly breaking free from his hold. She managed to slip from his grasp and jump to her feet. But she didn’t try to escape. Instead she just turned away and bowed her head. With soft words she finished, “Just take the fucking money. I’ll get by, Daddy. An’ I’ll still fuck you for free, too. Just don't tell me what to do anymore.”
George was speechless. He had no idea what to say. He was angry, sure, more angry than he’d ever been: he felt it in his heart, and in his stomach, and in his clenching teeth. But the anger wasn’t coming from where he’d expected it to.
With a sigh his daughter turned, then, and walked back over to the bed. After squeezing past him the teenage girl untied her robe and let it fall to the floor, revealing her magnificently naked body still damp from her shower. Next she unwrapped the towel from around her head, allowing her wet red hair to fall down her pale back. Finally the girl crawled up on her bed, laid down on her back, and stared sadly upwards.
“Come fuck me, now,” she whispered.
Deep down inside, a small part of George was tempted to do so. But that small part’s influence paled in comparison to the rage he was feeling. Rage not at his daughter any longer, but at his boss.
Finally he knew the truth: his boss had done something horrible to his little girl. Maybe there hadn’t been any external scars, maybe he hadn’t beaten her or raped her. But he’d done something. He’d done something so terrible that Amy could no longer imagine anything worse ever happening again. That’s why she’d been so defiant lately. Because she’d seen Hell and had survived and she no longer feared anything else.
George looked upon the nude body of his beautiful daughter for a long, long moment. She was trembling, but only because she was still wet from her shower and probably cold. Her eyes stared blindly up toward the top of her canopied bed. She was readying herself to get fucked. She was giving herself up totally and completely for him.
The Vietnam War veteran suddenly turned around and marched out of his daughter’s room. He was a bad guy, he admitted to himself for the first time ever. He was a terrible, awful man. The things he’d done, well, there was no forgiveness for them. His girl was a slut and that wasn’t his fault but he had crossed the line when he’d betrayed her. He could’ve been a man and taken his firing as such. Instead he’d sold out his own daughter, to that fuck-tard boss of his no less, and that bastard had done something awful to her. He’d done something so awful that the girl no longer cared about anything anymore.
George was literally seeing red when he grabbed his gun and made for his truck. He was on the road just moments later.
Chapter Seventeen: Guilt, Anger, and Defiance
(M/f, rape, violence)
George’s temporarily pacified brat-of-a-daughter became more defiant than ever in the days following her trip to his boss’s house.
He didn’t understand what had changed. When he picked her up from the fat-ass prick’s house she’d been quiet and obviously exhausted, but it hadn’t appeared that she’d been hurt. That night, in fact, George had stole into her bedroom to inspect her body but had found nothing more than slight scratches on her otherwise smooth, soft back. Her pussy was sort of red, but that was expected, and as far as he could tell she hadn’t even been corn-holed.
So what was the big deal? So yet another guy had fucked her, so what? Why the sudden change in her attitude?
That change had begun the very next day. At first it was just small things, like rolling her eyes at him again when he gave her orders. It wasn’t long before she began talking back to him, though, and eventually she even began defying him.
He overlooked these transgressions at first, perhaps out of guilt. But then, the following Wednesday, the 50-something Vietnam vet got home from work to find his daughter watching a disgustingly illegal porn-movie on his DVD player. It was obviously an amateur-made movie starring two girls no older than ten jerking off a man old enough to be their father. And she, his teenage daughter, was sitting in his chair watching this trash, rubbing herself between her legs under her tiny, slutty little skirt.
“What the fuck are you watching?!” he screamed after she ignored his presence.
The little brat had responded slowly, bringing her large pretty eyes around to stare up at him. She didn't discontinue her masturbation when she said, “Uhm, isn’t it obvious?”
That made him fly into a rage. After marching over to the entertainment system he tore the DVD out of the player, calling his daughter the most horrible things he could think of before snapping the silver disc in two right in front of her eyes. It might have stopped there but then the little bitch smirked at him. In response he grabbed her by her hair and thew her to the floor, almost causing her to crack her head against the coffee table.
“This shit in my house?!?” he'd growled at the shaken girl. He watched as the little slut groaned for a second and then touched her lip. There was blood there. But rather than feel any guilt or remorse, George grew angrier than ever.
In a flash he was on her. He got on top of her small body in seconds and forced the struggling girl’s arms above her head. He held them there by her wrists with one hand while he practically spit in her face, screaming and cursing and letting all the frustrations he'd been feeling lately boil to the surface.
She never cried, though. Despite her obvious fear all the little slut did was squirm and clench her eyes shut and struggle her body around in a vain attempt to dislodge him. And after his rage was spent he suddenly realized how nice and soft her little body felt beneath his, squirming to and fro. His eyes went down to her heaving chest, and her slight cleavage. It didn't take long before his cock began to stir. Breathing hard and cursing underneath his breath, the enraged father suddenly used his free hand to unzip his jeans and pull out his throbbing cock. It took only a few seconds before he began to probe it underneath his daughter’s skirt in a frenzy, all the while cursing her for her perversity, for bringing such terrible porn into his house, for being such an awful, dirty slut.
“You're my slut, mine! Remember?” he hissed into the struggling girl's ear. “Not some nasty pervert-pedophile, you damn bitch, you damn whore!”
While he reprimanded her verbally he continued to probe his cock between her teenage legs. She wasn’t wearing panties, which wasn’t a surprise, and soon his cock-head found the glistening wet hole of his daughter’s sex. When his member made contact with her cunt her struggle renewed. But on top of her, there between the coffee table and the recliner, she stood no chance of dislodging him. Soon he was able to angrily press his dick into her tight confines at which point something strange happened: she relaxed. Then she gasped. And then she began to laugh.
This infuriated him all the more. He hadn’t fucked her since before sending her to his boss’s house, and he was due, and she was trying to ruin it by laughing at him. At him, her own father! Had her laughter been meant to criticize the size of his cock? He knew he was well endowed, but was she implying that that fat-fuck's cock was bigger? Or was the teeny-tramp laughing at his hypocrisy?
He screamed for her to shut the fuck up. And then, with an angry and brutal thrust of his hips, George savagely stabbed himself deep inside his daughter's cunt as though his cock were a blade he could brutally murder her with.
She never stopped laughing, though. Instead she laughed harder as he violently raped his cock in and out of her hole. She wasn’t fazed by any of this. Indeed, it was as though she was egging him on.
“Come on, Daddy, rape your daughter!” she began to laugh breathlessly, a smile on her pretty, if shaken, face. “That’s so much better than watching illegal porn!”
The sarcastic comment had made him growl and suddenly begin to smack her, once, twice, three times across that gorgeous, tender face of hers. It didn’t daze the red-headed brat one bit, though, nor did she lose her smile.
Finally, then, he settled into simply cursing at her. Cursing her, and fucking her, and pushing his free hand up under her tight blouse to grip and squeeze her braless tits. He tuned her words out as he rutted his cock in and out of her taut 14-year-old cunt. At that moment what he really needed was to get off, to release some steam, and the feeling of her damp, velvety innards squeezing his dick was doing just that. He became lost in the sensation as he fucked in and out of his daughter’s developing womanhood.
When he came he purposefully came deep inside her, dumping his seed as far back in her womb as possible. It felt good to crush his hips against her when he did, to finally let go of her wrists and crush her growing breasts with them instead. He roared out in anger and relief for nearly a whole minute until he spilled the last of his seed.
George's rage shriveled away with his hard-on. After resting a moment on top of his daughter he had managed to stand up and collect himself and think. What had just happened? Even now George didn't know. And at that moment, looking down upon the form of his daughter with her creamy white legs splayed wide and his cum dribbling out from her pussy, he had been equally clueless. What had confused him the most, though, probably had nothing to do with her rattled, raped body. It was the look on the teenager's face: a knowing, almost smug, expression. The little twat had been looking down at him from the floor, defying him even after he’d raped her.
At that particular moment, though, the exhausted and spent man hadn’t known what to do about it. Rather than speak he’d simply turned away and gone to the stairs. Before reaching the top he could have sworn he’d heard her voice coming from the living room. She had said one word.
“Hypocrite.”
*****
Her behavior only got worse the day after that.
He’d demanded that she return home straight after school but he had returned from work to an empty house. And after she’d finally returned later that night she’d been drunk, and belligerent, and totally defiant.
What was he to do? Hit her again? Hit her harder, really teach her a lesson? The thought had crossed his mind. Her winter break would be starting on Monday and she’d be off of school for a week. He could beat the shit out of her and she’d have a week to heal at home before going back.
Yet, somehow, George couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he had fucked the drunk girl again, making sure she was properly naked this time before bending her over the edge of her own bed and doing her from behind. She hadn’t cared, she hadn’t resisted, but she had done some more of that infernal laughing.
At work things were getting out of hand, too. That Friday he almost punched out one of his co-workers for making a lewd comment about some 14-year-old kid walking by the construction site.
“I have a daughter that age, asshole!” he’d growled.
The man, whom George had never liked anyway, had simply grinned. “Hey, Georgy, you know what they say! If there’s turf on the field play ball!”
The comment had brought on laughter from some of the others, but George had snapped. Had his old friend Roy not grabbed him from behind and somehow pulled him back George would have knocked the guy’s teeth out.
“What the hell is the matter with you?!” Roy had demanded a moment later. “You already got a cunt-hair away from losing your job a few days ago, man!”
What is wrong with me? George had thought.
Maybe it was the presence of the fat lard on-site. The swaggering little shit-ball seemed to come up with any excuse now to visit nearby where George worked. The motherless asshole was rubbing it in with every look, every word, every step he made.
“I fucked your daughter!” he was saying.
Of course he never actually spoke those words. In fact, the fat-tub hadn’t mentioned a thing about his day spent with Amy. More than that, he actually kissed George’s ass now in front of everyone else. But in his head George could hear the words his boss really wanted to speak: “I did things to your daughter you’ll never even know about! I fucked her good, you fucking loser! I fucked your baby-slut-of-a-girl and I made her beg for more, and now I’ve ruined her for you. You’ll never have her back now, you dumb shit! And the best part is, you let me do it just to save your stinking, dead-end job…”
So work was intolerable, and home with Amy was intolerable. And finally Saturday came.
He had big plans for the day, actually. An old war buddy from out of town was staying in the city for some sort of business convention and, come evening, George was supposed to go visit him. It would be good to see the son-of-a-bitch again. It would be good to spend an evening downtown, barhopping and swapping war stories about the good old days, the gook-killing days, with an old friend. There was just one problem, of course: Amy.
She’d come home late on Friday night just as she had on Thursday: drunk and defiant. He hadn’t fucked her on Friday, though. She was much too wasted for that, and he’d been much too frustrated and drunk himself anyway. Instead he’d put her to bed (as she couldn’t make it up the stairs without help) and pondered all night what he should do with her, wondering what had gone wrong.
Now it was almost two in the afternoon and the slut had just woken up. He could hear her stirring around upstairs and he still hadn’t a clue as to how and deal with her defiance.
He could obviously ground her, but she’d just sneak out while he was gone. He could tie her up, maybe do a repeat of that night he’d made her watch all that porn, but George planned on staying overnight at his friend’s hotel room. She might not handle being left tied up, alone, like that for so long. Besides, there was a significant chance that her friend, that Lessy-girl Amy was always mentioning, might come looking for her. That wouldn’t be good.
George could hear the upstairs shower running. Finally an idea occurred to him.
He rushed up the stairs quickly and made for Amy’s room. It only took him a moment to find her purse, and when he did, he tore it open. He had all the cash out of it in a second, and then he remembered her dresser.
He’d seen her stuff bills into a sock in there on his hidden cameras before and, sure enough, a little pink sock was bulging underneath a pair of his daughter’s panties. He pulled the crumpled bills out one at a time: $80. Her “secret stash” was his.
Still, maybe she hid money elsewhere, too. Maybe he’d missed something on his cameras. He began tearing through her closet. He found a half-filled jar full of coins and set that aside while he searched. He found an old, lost porn DVD of his, too, and set that aside as well. When he finished with the closet he moved to her desk and began rummaging through its drawers.
A few minutes later his daughter entered the room. She was wearing her pink bathrobe and had a white towel wrapped around her head. She looked angry.
“What are you doing!” she shrieked.
“Taking back what’s mine,” George growled. After slamming shut the last desk drawer he stood up and glared at her. “So long as you act like some bratty little bitch, you ain’t gettin’ no money from me, none!”
Her eyes were wide in shock, and her soft lips were parted slightly as though she meant to say something. Then she just shrugged.
“Fine,” she said, voice only slightly shaking. “Take my money. Did you find my stash in the sock?”
His eyes were grilling into her now. “I found all of it, and I mean it! No more fucking allowance till you start behavin’ yourself!”
Again the girl just shrugged as she took a seat on the edge of her bed. “Fine,” she said. “I can make my own money, if you’re gonna be like that.”
George scoffed. “What does a spoiled brat like you know about making money?”
“Uhm, Daddy? Duh, you’re the one who found out about me fucking for clothes at the mall,” she said, almost grinning suddenly. “Think I can’t do that again? This time for cash? If you’re not gonna pay for this pussy no more I’m sure there’s plenty who will!”
George hadn’t foreseen this turn of events. Angrily he marched toward her and grabbed his daughter by her slender shoulders. “I find you been pettlin’ your ass like some whore I swear to Christ I’ll…”
“What!” she grunted with almost a laugh. “What you going to do? Sell me to your boss again? Heck, maybe I’ll just cut out the middle man and sell myself! He seemed to really enjoy the shit he done to me last weekend, I bet he’d pay a lot for a repeat!”
George’s eyes were burning, now. He felt his stomach tightening and his face was flushing red. “What did he do to you, Amy?” George growled, giving her a shake. “What did he fucking do!?”
“Now you fucking care?!” she snapped. George could see tears in her eyes all of a sudden. “You sold me out to him, Daddy! Why should you care what he did? All I know is he liked doing it, the sick fucking asshole really liked it! I bet he’ll like it a lot more if I done call him, now, and beg for more! Bet he’d pay a lot for Act Two!”
“I swear to Christ, girl, I swear…” George started to threaten.
“Fuck you!” she yelled, suddenly breaking free from his hold. She managed to slip from his grasp and jump to her feet. But she didn’t try to escape. Instead she just turned away and bowed her head. With soft words she finished, “Just take the fucking money. I’ll get by, Daddy. An’ I’ll still fuck you for free, too. Just don't tell me what to do anymore.”
George was speechless. He had no idea what to say. He was angry, sure, more angry than he’d ever been: he felt it in his heart, and in his stomach, and in his clenching teeth. But the anger wasn’t coming from where he’d expected it to.
With a sigh his daughter turned, then, and walked back over to the bed. After squeezing past him the teenage girl untied her robe and let it fall to the floor, revealing her magnificently naked body still damp from her shower. Next she unwrapped the towel from around her head, allowing her wet red hair to fall down her pale back. Finally the girl crawled up on her bed, laid down on her back, and stared sadly upwards.
“Come fuck me, now,” she whispered.
Deep down inside, a small part of George was tempted to do so. But that small part’s influence paled in comparison to the rage he was feeling. Rage not at his daughter any longer, but at his boss.
Finally he knew the truth: his boss had done something horrible to his little girl. Maybe there hadn’t been any external scars, maybe he hadn’t beaten her or raped her. But he’d done something. He’d done something so terrible that Amy could no longer imagine anything worse ever happening again. That’s why she’d been so defiant lately. Because she’d seen Hell and had survived and she no longer feared anything else.
George looked upon the nude body of his beautiful daughter for a long, long moment. She was trembling, but only because she was still wet from her shower and probably cold. Her eyes stared blindly up toward the top of her canopied bed. She was readying herself to get fucked. She was giving herself up totally and completely for him.
The Vietnam War veteran suddenly turned around and marched out of his daughter’s room. He was a bad guy, he admitted to himself for the first time ever. He was a terrible, awful man. The things he’d done, well, there was no forgiveness for them. His girl was a slut and that wasn’t his fault but he had crossed the line when he’d betrayed her. He could’ve been a man and taken his firing as such. Instead he’d sold out his own daughter, to that fuck-tard boss of his no less, and that bastard had done something awful to her. He’d done something so awful that the girl no longer cared about anything anymore.
George was literally seeing red when he grabbed his gun and made for his truck. He was on the road just moments later.
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