Chapter 14: My Eyes Are Bright
"Can't stop myself from laughing
"No matter how sad these things can be!
"My eyes are bright and--
"I—still don't even know you
"I—still wish that I could hold you
"I—still don't even know you
"I—I sometimes wanna die!
"Yeah, I sometimes wanna... die."
—Joydrop, 'Sometimes Wanna Die'
Amy sobbed until her tears dried up. She sobbed until it hurt to cry. Even then she continued to sob into her mattress while her father's sticky sperm leaked out from her pussy.
Most of it, of course, had made its way into her tight little box. Her period was due in two weeks, and now if she was late, she'd really be in a mess. She'd have no idea who her baby's daddy was. That asshole Russ? Maybe that nerd Drew? Or possibly, her own father?
No, she told herself, if she did get pregnant it wouldn't be her daddy's baby. No way. He'd had a vasectomy after she was born. Those things were 100% full proof. They had to be.
She lay in her bed reeling from what had happened for the next hour or so. This was going to be like the last time, she told herself. Her dad was going to feel guilty for what he'd just done and leave her alone for a good, long while. Last time he'd increased her allowance out of guilt, even. What might he give her this time? More money? More freedom?
The teenager heard her cell phone ringing from her purse. It was probably Elissa, wondering what had happened to her. She wanted more than anything to speak with her friend, to bring some semblance of normalcy into her suddenly shaken world, but she knew she wasn't in any condition to talk. She'd call her back later, when she'd completely recovered.
Eventually Amy sat up in the bed and crawled out of it. She looked down at her naked pussy: red and puffy and sticky with sperm. She sighed and sniffed then walked awkwardly toward her dresser. After pulling on a pair of blue-cotton panties and a bra, she began looking for the rest of her clothes. Being dressed would make her feel normal again. Later on, if she was right and her dad was drinking away his guilt and shame downstairs, she'd probably be able to sneak away to Elissa's place after he inevitably fell asleep in his recliner.
Just then she heard footsteps down the hall. She froze fearfully in place: so he hadn't gone downstairs yet! He hadn't been drinking the last hour or so! Was he going down there now, or was he coming to her for seconds?
Her teeth began to chatter and tears formed in her eyes when she heard the footsteps stop in front of her door. When he entered, she began crying again.
He didn't have that crazy look of intense anger in his eyes anymore, which was good. And his muscles weren't flexed and tense like they had been. What made her almost cry was what he carried in his hands: a roll of duct tape and two indistinguishable CD's.
"What the fuck you doing?" he said, his voice a lot calmer than before but still menacing.
"G-getting dressed," she whimpered.
"No," he replied as he headed toward her computer desk, "you can just wear your undies for now. No clothes."
"What do you mean?" she suddenly wailed. What the hell was he talking about? Stay in her undies? He did plan on fucking her again after all! It was the only explanation! How could he do this? Why wouldn't he just leave her alone like after the last time?
"SIT DOWN!" he screamed at her with all the ferocity he'd displayed earlier.
Once again the 14-year-old child was shocked into obedience. She rushed to her cum-stained mattress and sat on it, tears once again streaming down her face. She did her best not to make any noise but it was hard.
He was doing something to her computer. He was sitting in her small, dainty white chair, looming over her teen-girl desk and fiddling with her PC's tower. She watched in confusion as he put a CD in the drive, mess with the keyboard and mouse for a bit, then replace the CD with the second one he'd brought with him. He seemed to be copying some files onto her computer. Her heart was full of dread as she imagined what those files might be. When he was done he took the keyboard and placed it on top of her computer's tower-case, then pushed her flat-paneled monitor back until it was against the wall.
What the hell was he doing?
"Get over here," he ordered her.
Too scared to disobey, Amy did as her father said. She got up on wobbly legs and cautiously approached her dad, who was now standing next to her chair.
"Sit," he commanded.
Again, she did as he said.
Without a word he knelt down and grabbed her right ankle. She gasped as he roughly pulled it over to the front-right leg of her chair and began to tape it in place. He wrapped the duct tape quickly around her slender ankle several times, binding it to the outside of the chair leg. He was so quick she didn't have time to react.
When he got up and moved to her left side, she began to cry again. "What are you doing! Stop it, stop!"
He ignored her. She wailed on as he fastened her left ankle against the outside of the front left leg of the chair. When he finished with that he violently gripped her left wrist and wrapped it behind her back; seconds later he had her right wrist twisted behind the chair, too, before binding them together with the strong tape.
She was bound to the chair, now. She threw her head and cried, her mind panicking. What was he doing with her? What kind of sick game did he have planned?
Suddenly he was standing behind her, and she felt herself, along with her chair, lifted up from the ground a few inches. Moments later he'd moved the chair forward. The edge of the desk poked into her belly as she struggled against her bondage without thinking. It was all to no avail. He'd taped her ankles to the chair legs with several layers; her wrists were also bound behind the chair's back with an equally unbreakable amount of tape.
The confused and panicked teen didn't even notice at first that her father had left her like this. All she could do was sob and struggle. Eventually she realized that neither was doing her any good, so she forced herself to relax. She had to calm down and get her bearings.
He'd bound her to her chair and forced her against her desk. But why? She felt her nose itch and began to tremble with discomfort. She couldn't scratch it. Then she realized her butt was still sore from the spanking she'd received the previous weekend from that... well, that guy. Whoever he was. But she couldn't so much as shift her soft young ass an inch in either direction to relieve her discomfort: that's how tightly her dad had bound her.
It was weird, but she was almost relieved when her daddy returned. After all, she couldn't imagine being left in this position any longer! It was too weird, too awkward. So he'd had his fun binding her up, she figured, and now he would undo her. He might fuck her again but that was better than being left in this state, the traumatized girl reasoned. Anything would be better than this uncertainty.
"Daddy?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.
"Here's the deal, baby," her father said from the doorway to her room. His voice was soft and matter-of-fact. "You're a slut. I think we both know that by now. Don't bother denying it."
She might have tried, but she was in such a vulnerable position she could barely gather up the courage to simply say, "Okay."
"You're a fucking girl—a child!—and you're a slut. Now turns out you're a whore. Well, next thing you'll be getting knocked up or infected with some disease. That's what'll happen, baby girl. It's what'll happen unless I do something."
Her neck had been strained over her shoulder for so long that the soreness there finally caused her to drop her head forward. Maybe he saw this as defeat, or as some kind of admission of guilt, she realized, but she didn't care.
"I know you don't want that, babe. And I ain't gonna let it happen to you. Question is, how do I keep you from being a sluttish whore, 'specially since it's your nature?"
She bit her lower lip but refused to offer a response. Even after all he'd done to her it was hard to accept that he thought so little of her.
"I'll tell ya how," he said, his voice suddenly closer. "I gotta keep you in line. I think I gotta make some rules, and force you to follow them for once. It'll be for your own good. Can't change the fact you're a slut, I know that now. But we can control it."
His voice had grown so close Amy was sure her dad was just inches away now.
"But," he whispered harshly in her ear, "you don't think you're a slut, do you? Deep down inside you still think you're a good little girl, don't you? Answer me."
"Yes," she whispered.
"We ain't gonna be able to make things right until you realize the truth," he said after a pause.
Suddenly he stood and grabbed the computer monitor on her desk and pulled it forward. The large 19" LCD flat panel screen was a lot closer than she was used to viewing it at, as there was no keyboard separating her from it and she had been pushed all the way into her desk. What was he doing?
"I knew you had porn on your computer, baby girl, mostly pictures and those stories. Well I never bothered with no stories. But you had a few movies and I've added a whole lot more of 'em from my own machine. Now you're gonna watch 'em. You're gonna watch all of 'em, over and over, until I get back. A good girl wouldn't get turned on by 'em, a good girl would get disgusted, but you ain't a good girl.
"You're gonna watch 'em, and you're gonna love 'em," he said cruelly. "But you ain't gonna be able to fuck yourself with that dildo of yours this time."
Never had the girl felt so utterly helpless and humiliated before. Her dad was going to force her to watch porn? Over and over he'd said? She was in no mood for sex but she knew herself, she knew she'd eventually get worked up. She knew her dad would be proven right. She'd get horny as hell and not be able to do anything about it because she was taped down into this goddamned chair!
"Please, Daddy, let me go!" she begged in a panic. "I am a slut, okay?! I am, I know, I'm not a good girl, pleeeasse!"
He ignored her. Already she saw that he was using the mouse to open up her movies folder, which she immediately saw had a lot more files in it then it usually did. He saw him click a few buttons and then select "Play All".
"No!!! Daddy, my wrists hurt, please, let me go, don't make me do this!" she begged.
He still didn't respond even as she continued to profess what a slut she was, that she'd do anything he wanted, that she'd never be bad again, etc. She felt him gather up her long hair and pull it behind her head, then tie it into a crude ponytail, probably so that it wouldn't interfere with her view. Then she saw him bring the computer's speakers forward and turn the volume up. Next she heard him walk away for a moment and turn off her bedroom lights—even though it was a cool bright day outside, her window blinds blocked most of the natural light plunging the room into a dark, warm glow. The only thing lighting the room now was the computer monitor.
He returned to her side. He was on one knee, looking up at her with a hard expression on his grizzled face. It wasn't anger she saw there, and it wasn't hate. It was resolve. His hand came up and cupped her right breast through her light blue bra and squeezed it softly. She sobbed at his touch.
"Shh, don't cry," he said. "This is for the best. You trust your dad, now, baby girl. I'm gonna make you into a responsible little slut, not some fucking teenage whore who fucks strangers for clothes at some God-damned mall.
"I'm gonna leave now," he said, standing up. "Gonna go up to the Barely Luck, watch some grownup sluts do their thing. Guys from work'll probably show up after the shift is done, and I think they're going bowling later. I probably won't be back until late.
"When I do get back," he finished, "if it looks like you tried to escape, or that you tried to knock the monitor over, or anything like that, I'm gonna chain you to the hot water heater in the basement and leave you there until Sunday."
With that final threat made he clicked a button on the mouse, moved the mouse off the desk, and walked out of her bedroom, closing the door behind as he left.
Amy sobbed with her eyes shut tight. What the hell was this? she wondered frantically. How did she end up in this position? Why hadn't he just spanked her, punished her that way, if he was so angry? Because there was no way he was serious about wanting to "change" her or "help" her by making her into what he apparently considered a "proper" slut. He couldn't be that insane. Could he?
Suddenly she heard music. The volume on the speakers was loud, and she knew that a movie had begun. She kept her eyes shut tight, though, refusing to look at the screen.
What time was it? she wondered, trying to calm herself down and think of anything but her current predicament. He'd pulled her out of class just after lunch. How much time had gone by? It had to be three by now, at least. Elissa was probably walking home, wondering where she was. There was no way even her twisted little mind could have imagined the truth.
She was stuck here until her dad came home. He said he'd be home late. She could be here for hours!
It wasn't long before she heard the sound of poor actors delivering cheesy dialogue. She heard a woman speaking in a girly voice about how much she loved cocks; she heard a man say something like fine, alright, you can suck mine. Then she heard the action begin.
No! Amy thought. Don't listen. She tried to concentrate on something else, anything else. Her dad could bind her here, force her to be here, but he couldn't make her actually look at the movies or pay attention to them. She could pretend she was somewhere else, somewhere safe.
Did such a place exist?
Tears streamed down her cheeks again and she started to whimper. Then she screamed in frustration and anger and tested the strength of her bindings again. But her wrists didn't budge. He'd made sure to pull her arms so tightly back behind the chair that she couldn't hope to lift herself up. Her ankles were just as tightly bound; she'd have a better chance of breaking the chair's legs off than freeing herself from them.
The action in this movie had intensified. She could hear the woman slurping away, probably on the guy's cock, and Amy briefly wondered what the woman looked like. She almost opened her eyes but managed to keep them shut.
The 14-year-old girl made it through that first movie. It was probably about twenty minutes long, more of a scene from a movie than anything else. The next clip lasted longer, and Amy could feel her resolve breaking. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop herself from wondering what was going on. The sounds, the gasps and moans and slurping and cursing, she had to see, she knew she had to see.
It was almost like she didn't realize at first that she'd opened her eyes, that she'd begun to watch the action that filled almost the whole of her vision. Her heart raced and she felt her will crumble as she gazed upon the sight of two women fucking one guy. Thoughts of Elissa and William filled her head.
But once again, Amy was able to shake the away these thoughts. Out loud she said, "No!" and closed her eyes once more. She couldn't let herself sink into this, she thought. "No, no, NO!" she repeated out loud.
Another movie had begun, and right away she recognized the voice of the actress. It was one of her files, one of the dozen or so she'd had on her computer. She knew it was short, maybe ten minutes; she knew the actress' name was 'Kacy'. She knew the actress would masturbate in the video first, and then get fucked by two guys.
It was familiar. Anything familiar would be good right now, she thought. She would just watch it, just this one, and pretend everything was okay. It would calm her down.
About halfway through that clip Amy's will completely broke. She couldn't keep her eyes off the action anymore; she was biting her lower lip, her large eyes fixed on the screen as her ears filled with the sounds of raw, relentless fucking. She was getting wet between her legs and she didn't care. She was in a daze, entranced by the large, looming vision of hardcore porn and the loud fucking noises.
The next file to play must have been one of her dad's, because she'd never seen it before. Three big black men, one young white woman, a chance encounter at the mechanic's. Of course the woman didn't have the money to pay for her car's repairs. Of course the men decided to take their payment in pussy.
Amy gulped and watched. She was tingling between her legs and her panties were damp now. More than anything she wanted to touch herself but, of course, she couldn't. More than that, she realized, she wanted to be this young white woman getting banged by three studs at once. She pictured herself in the woman's position, being told how nasty she was, being ordered to suck this cock or that cock or move this way or that. She got so lost in the fantasy she almost felt their cum squirt all over her face when the video ended.
The teenage girl's heart was racing and her pussy was tingling and she could feel her nipples straining against her bra. God, all she wanted now was to touch herself!
The next few movies that went by were very similar to that one. Amy fell into a pattern, too. When a movie began she calmed down, breathed deeply, tried to relax. Then she'd fantasize about being the actress in whatever movie was playing. She'd then grow more and more excited until she was almost hyperventilating in frustration and horniness. This would peak when the scene ended and she'd once again calm down a bit.
She was no longer conscious of anything but the intense feelings in her body begging for release and the porn playing on her computer monitor. The porn was effectively her whole world. It was all she could see, all she could hear. Sometimes she'd begin to blubber nonsensically about how horny she was, or she'd begin to sob and beg someone who wasn't there to fuck her. One time she even whimpered, "Please, Daddy, you're there, I know you're there, I'll fuck you, please, let me go, I need to be fucked!" But again, she wasn't really aware of her own words.
Hours passed. The movies started over from the beginning, but Amy no longer really distinguished any differences between them anyway. In her young, horny mind every woman in these movies was her. Sometimes she could almost feel cocks in her cunt or in her ass and she'd think it'd be enough to cum. But the occasional ripples of pleasure that did result from these intense thoughts and feelings weren't nearly on par with the kind of orgasm the girl desperately needed. If anything, these mini-orgasms just made her more frustrated. Which is why she'd begin to cry again whenever they occurred: she needed something real, not this, not this!
When her bedroom light came on she was completely disoriented. She tore her eyes off the screen and tried to see what was going on. The next thing she knew someone was pulling her chair back, clicking on the mouse to end the movies, and the sudden silence confused the overly stimulated girl even more.
"Wh-what? What?" she stammered.
It was her dad. He reeked of booze and he had a knife. She watched with curiosity as he got down on his knees. Was he going to eat her out? she wondered. She would like that.
"OW!" she yelped after he cut the tape away and then peeled it off her soft ankle. He did the same to her other one, and Amy slowly became aware that he was freeing her.
After he removed the tape from her wrists her arms fell limp and weak at her sides. She began to slide forward in the chair and almost fell off it before he caught her. The feeling of his hands on her made her tingle with desire.
"Are you gonna fuck me?" she asked with pleading eyes as he laid her down on her mattress.
All he did was stare at her. He was grinning a little, swaying a little, too. His hand came down between her legs and she spread them weakly and moaned.
"Your panties are soaked," he declared.
"Yeah," she whimpered breathlessly.
"Good," he replied. He removed her underwear then. The feeling of being undressed was incredible. Undressed by her daddy. Then she saw he was undressing, too.
Her mind was far too lost to realize anything was wrong about this, or to remember the circumstances that had led up to this point. All she could think about was how horny she was when she saw his dick, semi-erect, and her large well-built father standing over her completely nude body.
"Suck it," he said, holding out his penis to the girl.
She leaned over until she was closer to the edge of the bed and obediently took the sweaty cock into her mouth. She tasted dry cum and sweat on it as she sucked it for a while. After a few moments of gulping on his hard shaft she suddenly realized that she was free, that she could please herself, too!
"Stop," he said when she began to play with her pussy.
She stared at him with a pleading expression on her face. Why would he stop her? She needed to cum!
That's when he crawled into bed with her. He climbed over her small body until he was laying right next to her.
"Use my cock," he instructed her as he laid down on his back.
Amy knew exactly what he meant. Excited and eager, Amy crawled atop his large body and positioned her cunt just above his cock. When it made contact with her, she let out a long, soft moan of pleasure.
His hands gripped her waist, now, and she began to sink down onto his prick. It was so large and thick, she couldn't believe she was impaling herself on it. It was incredible! She sank lower and lower, moaning the entire time, until finally she dropped all the way down and experienced the orgasm that had been hours in the making.
He was fondling one of her tits as she came and using another hand to guide her into a bucking motion, up and down on his cock as her slick pussy shuddered around it. She literally saw stars during this, the longest orgasm she'd ever had. When things cleared up she realized she was still fucking her father. Her body was on autopilot, bobbing up and down on his hard dick.
She was sweating, now, drenched in sweat from head to toe. She stared down at his face and his body and then placed her hands on his chest to give herself some leverage. Then she really began to fuck him. He liked this, obviously: he began to grunt and groan as she fucked him desperately.
She was fucking her father and she was about to cum again, and then she did, crying out loud in pleasure when her young body swelled with euphoria as the orgasm rocked her world. But even after this orgasm, she continued to fuck him remorselessly. Her pussy felt so full and stimulated that it was like nothing she'd ever experienced. She cried through another, smaller orgasm then, just as her father suddenly rolled her over so that he was on top.
His large body crushed her into the mattress and her face was buried in his chest. She moaned and whimpered deliriously as he began to pound her young twat like a jackhammer. Her legs were splayed wide and her fingernails were digging into his back as he grunted with each pounding thrust he made inside her.
She could barely breathe, let alone cry out, when she had her fourth orgasm. Shortly after that one, though, she felt her father's semen shoot inside her. She felt it fill her up and she moaned into his chest as it did. When it was over, he rolled over to the side and collapsed onto his back.
Amy remained limp and motionless for a few minutes while she tried to catch her breath. She was beginning to feel like herself again, but the post-orgasmic high she had kept her from feeling bad or guilty or ashamed at all. In fact, when she finally did move, it was to snuggle up next to her father, who was lying on his back right next to her.
"Good little slut," he said soothingly as he petted the back of her head.
"Mmm hmm," she replied, smiling and with her eyes closed, her head resting on his chest.
At some point during the night he went back to his room, but she fell asleep like that, resting lovingly next to her twisted, rapist father.