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The Vacation (Story Time!)

I write long long as fuck fantasies about my kinks that probably no one will read. This is now part of a series!

The Vacation, Part II - Read this next!!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is a fantasy for adults only! Minors DNI.

It was time for dinner.

Our plane landed just a few hours earlier, and we resolved to unpack and shower after the flight to Mexico. The house that was so graciously lent to us for the week by a family member was mercilessly devoid of food. My stomach growled while I dried my hair and, by the time I was putting on eyeliner, I had begun to shake.

Daddy was in the car, waiting for me out on the driveway. I was taking a long time, and he was starting to get annoyed. He had his phone out with an in-progress text to me when I opened the door and sat down in the passenger seat.  

I was wearing an adorable sun dress I bought for the trip, with a very soft and breathable fabric and thin straps that led to a deep neckline. As I leaned across the center console to kiss him, I made extra sure he could tell I wasn't wearing a bra. When I pulled away, I made certain to brush my hand against his cock as I went to hold his hand. I clasped his hand into my lap and interlaced our fingers, lovingly stroking his arm with my free hand. 

"Sorry I kept you waiting, Daddy,” I said, making sure to show sympathy. “I just couldn't remember where I packed something." 

“You couldn't find your bras," he said while pulling out of the driveway and onto the road. “You’re wearing the dress I laid out for you. You didn’t see it right next to it?”

He kept his eyes on the road, already knowing the answer. 

My cheeks flushed. I had seen them, but I was eager to show off my dress for him in more provacative ways. I was going for flirty, but I thought back at how irritable I had been during the flight. And this morning. And since landing. 

I wasn’t behaving, I realized. It’s not my fault I was so excited to get here. I just wanted the boring part to be over!

Maybe I could make him happy now that we’re here.

I tugged on his arm, guiding his hand until his fingertips touched skin. He took a moment to glance over to see I had guided his hand under my dress. He ran his fingers along my thighs, searching for- 

“I couldn't find any of my underwear," I whispered into his ear, suddenly finding myself close to him. I was already massaging his cock through his pants. 

“You know the rules,” he said sternly, then quickly realized I had already unzipped his pants and had already been stroking him in the time it took for him to say the words. 

Daddy had rules and I had broke them. A big one was to always ask for permission when I want to change the outfit that was chosen for me. The other was that panties were optional until they weren’t.

“Baby girl’s pussy is a present,” he had said. “Sometimes Daddy likes to unwrap it.”

I pretended not to hear his implied rule reinforcement and looked at him with hungry eyes.

After a moment of contemplation, he nodded. I bent forward and took his cock into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the head and went as deep as I could. As I closed my lips around him, I slowly started moving my mouth up and down his shaft. Each time, I could feel his cock throb as I tease him with my mouth. I could feel him relax and mutter something to himself. 

Daddy’s left hand was clamped around the steering wheel as he struggled to maintain focus. His right hand wandered to my hip where it rested reassuringly, his fingertips extending just past the hem of dress. Then as my pace picked up I felt him reach around, pull down the front of my dress, and squeeze my tits as my head bobbed up and down. 

I felt the car rumble as we started to drift onto the shoulder, then subside as he was able to regain his senses before he had gone too far off the road. 

He felt and tasted amazing; my hand was stroking his cock in tandem with my lips. I could feel him getting close, his body tensing in anticipation. 

All of a sudden, my head came up. A long string of saliva briefly followed along as my lips left his dick. His cock throbbed and twitched in my hand as he neared the edge of his climax.. 

..but it didn't come. 

I smiled wickedly at him, and laughed at the disbelief on his face. 

“Did I say you could stop,” he asked. 

“You can't cum yet!” 

He glared at me as he pulled the car into the restaurant parking lot. I innocently shrugged the straps of my dress back onto my shoulders and flipped down the vanity mirror. I pretended to ignore his gaze as I used my ring finger to wipe the drool off my chin and the corners of my mouth, then straightened by hair and makeup.

I smiled and bit my lip. 

“You little-“ 

I already knew what he was going to say, because I was trying to be one. A brat. 

It had been too long since Daddy had taken me violently. He was stressed with work all the time, exhausted before he even walked through the door. And while I dutifully knelt before him every day to service him without any expectation of pleasure in return, my panties were constantly soaked by the mere sight of him. Even if I were allowed to masturbate, I was incapable of climaxing without his touch.

So before he could finish the sentence, I opened the door and got out. I waited as he zipped up his pants, trying to compose myself before we walked into the restaurant. I shook with excitement and anticipation.

The place was a tropical shack of sorts. White linen tablecloths lay atop small, round tables. The long fabric fluttered gently in the evening breeze. Each had a covered candle in the center and a spectacular view of the ocean.  

We made our way to an available table and sat down. He glared at me across the table and I grinned back at him. Clearly, he was still bitter at having been brought within an inch of cumming only to have me stop. 

He was capable of rage. Especially directing that rage onto my body and making me cower with fear before him. But he was restrained in all the ways that made me feel safe. I was counting on that restraint working in my favor, using it as the cork for him to unleash on me later. 

I shivered at that exciting thought.

As the night went on and we ate a light dinner, we started drinking and laughing. All but one table had left and the waitress mostly left us to our conversation, only dropping by to provide more drinks if she noticed we were running low. I began to flirt with Daddy again.  

“Daddy,” I asked.

“Yes, baby girl?”

“How mad are you that I didn't make you cum earlier?”

He considered for a moment. I felt the world slow as I met his gaze, waiting for his words to sting. 

“Very,” he said. “You’ll be punished for it.” 

I bit my lip, preparing to once again stoke the fires of his rage. I trembled, and distinctly felt the chair sticking to my thighs just below my dress.

"Oh,” I whispered somberly. “So I should be worried about what you'll do to me behind closed doors?”  

“Yes.” 

"So I should fix it," I continued innocently. "Before you take me somewhere I can't scream for help." 

I bit my lip at him as he tried to put two and two together. Of course, I liked taking advantage of his ability to overthink everything. I’d use it to tease him even further. Especially when I was being as bratty as I was now.

I noticed he was at a loss for words, so I reached under the table and placed my hand on his knee. 

"Is anyone looking?" 

He shook his head wordlessly. 

Without another word, I dropped to my knees under the table. He fidgeted in his seat nervously and looked down at the side of the table. The tablecloth stopped about 2 inches from the ground, so I was obscured but a careful observer would be able to see me underneath given the right angle. Especially if the ocean breeze picked up a bit. 

I fumbled with the button, then reached into his pants. His cock sprang from his waistband an inch from my face. My shallow breathing reflected off his shaft, and I smelled the wine I had been drinking. Time for desert, I thought as I begin to stroke his rapidly growing cock.  

"Fuck," I heard him whisper from somewhere above. It almost sounded involuntary. 

Encouraged by the sentiment, my tongue traveled the length of the underside of his cock, pausing for a moment at the tip, then wrapping my lips around the head and slowly letting them glide down the shaft. I felt his leg shake and his cock increase in size in my mouth. 

I let out a soft little moan to let him know that I’m enjoying myself. The vibrations make his cock throb in response as I start getting into a rhythm.  

He pulled the tablecloth up like a curtain to watch me for a moment. 

"Oh my god," he gasped as I look up at him, not stopping. “Good girl.” 

I close my eyes and give one more extra deep motion before letting his cock leave my mouth with an audible pop. I continued stroking him and opened my eyes, bringing my free forefinger to my lips in a shushing motion. Then, after briefly catching my breath, I hungrily slid his cock back into my mouth with a renewed effort. He let the tablecloth fall.

My hand, the one that was wrapped around his base, was slick with the saliva running down his shaft. I could hear the little slurps, gasps, and other miscellaneous noises coming from me, and it was turning me on even more. He tasted incredible!  

"Can I get you another drink, sir?" 

He jumped slightly as I felt him snap back to some semblance of reality. I froze for a moment, looking at the pair of shoes close to our table: The waitress. The brat in me took back over and kept sucking his cock as if nothing had changed. 

"Sure, one more. And the check, too," Daddy finally said. He was sounded disappointedly normal considering how I was doing my best to make him lose his mind.

"And the lady?" 

"Yeah, bring her one, too. She's taking a call right now."   

During that time, I redoubled my efforts. This moment was the ultimate opportunity to push his buttons. I wasn’t sure if I had ever been this horny in my life. But with the very real threat of being caught, all I knew was that I never wanted to make my daddy cum more than in that moment. And hearing myself being referred to as a “lady” made me want to do something decidedly unladylike. I wanted her desperately to refer to me as his slut.

I heard the footsteps begin again, then fade away. 

I looked up toward him to gauge his reaction as I went faster and deeper, but all I could see were vague shapes on the other side of the fabric. I could feel him start to tense up. I could feel him getting close. 

Footsteps again, then voices. I felt his hand gather up a fistful of my hair, then push me all the way down on his cock. I gagged a little bit and try to push myself back up. But he held me firmly in place. I heard him talking. 

He had done the equivalent of telling me to shut up in that moment. It was the first time he had taken control of me tonight. It was both incredibly hot and unfathomably annoying to me, though. I could feel the opportunity to make him cum in a high-stakes situation slipping away.  

A second was a lifetime, it seemed. The waitress had decided to choose this moment to strike up a protracted conversation about where we had traveled from, then sharing her recommendations on where we should visit while we were here. I could hear him keeping his composure as he attempted to navigate the conversation -- but just barely. 

As the seconds dragged on, the voices from the conversation began to fade and the sound of my heartbeat began to thump in my ears. I wasn’t sure if he was aware that I couldn't breathe, and I was very quickly running out of air. Because I couldn't swallow, saliva filled my mouth. 

Tears blurred my vision. Or was it the lack of oxygen? Maybe both. 

It was beginning to be too much. My hands that once rested on his thighs began to tap desperately in an attempt to communicate to him my need for air. I felt his hand pulling my hair and I allowed myself to be dragged off his cock. 

Suddenly, air! I gasped for breath, not quite sure if I remembered to be quiet. But I could breathe! 

I blinked away the moisture in my eyes and centered myself. I reached forward, wrapping my hand around the base of his cock as I took a few more breaths. It was slick with my saliva, a strand of which still bridged the gap between my lips and his tip. I stroked him gently, my hand gliding effortlessly over the ample supply of spit. I felt him throb in response as I saw the feet of our waitress shuffle slightly. 

Once again, I greedily took him into my mouth again while continuing to side-eye the feet on the other side of the table cloth curtain. Maybe I could still get him to cum in front of the waitress and embarrass him! 

“It’s a date,” a voice said, muffled by the cloth of the table and the blood rushing past my ears. It was the waitress. And she sounded gleeful.

A date? 

The pair of shoes turned and walked away. 

A moment later, I felt Daddy’s hand tighten its grip on my hair. He dragged me partially out from underneath the table, and into the light of the restaurant. I blinked as my eyes adjusted and saw him looking down at me with a stern face. I smiled up at him innocently while continuing to stroke him absentmindedly.  

"Get up," he whispered to me in a deep voice. 

I looked around, asking the question more than actually being able to see whether or not the coast was clear. I wondered, for a moment, if I turned Daddy on to the point of reckless exhibitionism. 

He pushed my hand off his cock and pulled his pants back around his waist. I slumped my shoulders in disappointment. 

"No one's here. Get the fuck up.” 

I crawled out from underneath the table as he stood from his chair. He extended his hand to help me to my feet and pulled me close to him with a force that almost dislocated my shoulder. Then, without a word, Daddy put his hand on my lower back and quickly shuffled me to the door. 

The waitress watched him intently as he passed, then recovered in an obvious fashion. Our eyes met and she smiled. Was she gloating?

The door opened into the moonlit night. A soft breeze ran through my hair and my dress fluttered in the wind. I closed my eyes for a moment, relishing the feeling a moment longer and started toward the car. But then, quite suddenly, I felt my upper arm being grabbed firmly. I was aggressively pulled in the opposite direction. I stumbled slightly but quickly moved to be in step with my daddy. He maintained his grip and pushed me slightly in front of him. 

"Where are we going," I ask, turning my head to try and see his face. 

There was no answer as we rounded the corner of the restaurant and began down the cement steps waiting for us. 

“I think our waitress is into you,” I said. The inflection of my voice made it sound like a joke, but I was fishing for information. “Did I hear you guys are going on a date?”

No answer.

A knot in my stomach began to form. It wasn’t jealousy; I encouraged my daddy to have anyone he wants. Not like I would have a choice in the matter, but I always found it deeply enjoyable to share with other girls. 

I began to worry, though, that I was too much of a brat. That he’d punish me by fucking her instead of me. That I wouldn’t feel his cock tonight. 

So maybe I was jealous. I began to cry.

At the bottom, he directed me toward a couple of smaller buildings in front of an expanse of beach and a lone pier. A tall, wooden privacy fence bridged the gap between the rear of the two buildings. A cement walking path led behind the shops, running parallel to the ocean and disappeared into the distance. I read the signs: Surf Shop and Beach Rentals. 

His grip had been steadily tightening since we left the restaurant. It was becoming unbearable.

“You’re hurting me, Daddy.”

Still no answer. Unless tightening his vice grip further was one.

Once we're along the store fronts, it was clear they were closed. I was confused. Were we going down here to buy something? Then it was there: a gap between the buildings served as excess storage for the two shops. It was almost a small alley. There were surf and boogie boards standing upright in a rack, a neatly stacked bunch of wooden pallets covered by a tarp, a couple of locked storage containers, and fabric door mat lay in front of a wall. Sand was scattered across the cement, presumably from all the beachgoers retrieving the items found here. Light from outdoor sconces on either end of both buildings illuminating the scene intermittently flickered slightly. It was decidedly sketchy. 

At that moment, I understood. 

There was enough room to walk and lengths of wall to use, but enough cover to hide us from anyone who might be walking on the beach or visiting the pier. The wooden privacy fence at the end ensured no one on the path just on the other side could see anything. It wouldn't do much for any noise me made but it would have to do. 

A chill ran up my spine.

All of my life I had been obsessed with dresses. When I was a little girl, I always dressed as a princess. As I grew, I traded in the silly frills for a more cute and flirty variety. To me, they were what I always felt most comfortable in. It wasn’t until my first boyfriend fingered me in the movie theater that I fully grew to appreciate the genius of dresses. It allowed men to easily take what they wanted.

My kink for dresses grew into an interest in free-use. The idea of wearing a dress and for a man to bend me over and be inside me without needing to struggle with more restrictive clothing was intoxicating. 

Daddy nurtured that part of me, training me to accept his cock at all times. In my sleep, while cooking dinner — It didn’t matter. I was his to take and my dresses were all the permission he needed.

I only had one hang up about this arrangement.

“Daddy, please,” I whimpered. “Not in public. Not here.”

In a car or under the dining table, that was fine. It flirted with exhibitionism. But the relative privacy meant that my embarrassment would be limited. Out in the relative open, near a busy walkway. It was different in my head and Daddy knew it.

He swung me around abruptly to face him. Before I was able to let out more than a surprised yelp, his hand was around my throat. He used his grip to guide me, pushing me without mercy into one of the walls. I felt the cool, rough texture of the brick against my exposed back. My arms flailed about for a moment, not quite sure how to react to the explosive aggression he displayed. They ultimately hung limply at my side, my palms and fingertips gripping at the stone and mortar behind me. 

“You’re gonna pay for today." 

I shivered. The cool stone against my skin only amplified the situation.

“Daddy, no,” I cried. “I’m sorry!”

Suddenly, he pushed me downward, still using my throat as leverage. The sudden movement briefly intensified his grip, causing my vision to darken. I felt the rough wall catch the fabric of my dress as I slid down it, causing it to bunch up in places on my back. 

My vision returned to me, and I now found myself squatting with my back against the wall in front of Daddy. My dress bunched up enough to feel exposed. A cool breeze rolled in from the ocean and caressed my skin. It was then when I realized just how wet I was. 

"Open your fucking mouth.” 

Daddy’s voice caused me to snap back to reality, my body noticeably jolting in surprise. I closed my mouth defiantly, resisting the thumb he used to pry apart my pouting lips. Tears streamed down my face as I glared up at him.

The slap connected with my cheek. My ear rang, and I stopped crying. The sting reverberated but it was nowhere near his hardest.

"Use it for something useful for a change,” he said. 

I obeyed. 

It was an automatic response, like I had no choice in the matter. I was even more shocked to notice that his cock was still throbbing for me as it sprang from falling pants. He was in control of me completely. But, in some ways, it was me who was; my daddy had clearly been driven so crazy that I kept him aroused in the many minutes that passed between the table and this moment. 

I looked up at him and his face stared down at me atop a mountain of muscle. Tears again ran down my face as I pleaded with him wordlessly, my mouth still agape. But I knew it didn’t matter.

He slid his cock along my waiting tongue and into my mouth. I gagged as he pushed himself into the back of my mouth, then felt it angle downward into my throat. My nose scrunched as he forced himself so deep that it started sinking into his belly. His balls came to rest on my chin and my bottom lip felt the texture of his skin change slightly. 

My hands instinctively shot up, placing my palms on his thighs as leverage to push away should he go too far. I didn’t attempt to escape, but it was still a mistake. He angrily grasped both my wrists in one meaty hand and pinned them against the wall above my head. 

It was clear that I was at his mercy. All I could see was his cock sliding in and out of my mouth in my periphery, and his looming presence over me. 

The terror of being in public still hung in the air but my mind had a hard time remembering why I was so worried in the first place. I wasn’t worried that I’d be judged or called a slut. It was a turn-on more than anything.

As he fucked my mouth, I relaxed my body until I allowed him to take complete control. My mouth watered in response to his pleasure. I no longer preoccupied myself with swallowing the excess saliva that rapidly accumulated around my tongue. It poured out past my lips and down my chin. It dripped like a faucet onto my tits, the front of my dress, and my exposed thighs. 

The messier I appeared, the more aggressive he became. And the more feral he behaved, the more disheveled I looked. It wasn't long before the top of my dress clung to my breasts. The wet, thin fabric left little to the imagination. 

"Look at me," he growled. 

I obeyed his command, my eyes peered up at him intently. I willed myself to communicate so many things at once using just my eyes: submission, pleasure, mischievousness, desperation, fear. My sole focus was on him -- nothing else mattered.  His legs trembled and he exhaled shakily. 

"Oh my god," he gasped. “You’re such a good girl." 

I reached up and ran my hands along his abs, my nails lightly scratching his skin as I dragged them down his stomach. I closed my eyes to blink back tears and let out a contended sigh before opening them to once again plead with him.  

I was still so scared. But those words will always bring me so much comfort.

Then I felt it. One more thrust into my mouth and he was nearly there. I started sending him over the edge. His thighs began to quake, and his breathing intensified. I hadn’t given much thought to this part. I had hoped he would stop, and we could continue in the safety of the bedroom. I was wrong.

Before I knew what was happening, he yanked a fist full of my hair. The force of it caused me to fall forward onto my knees while he stumbled backwards slightly to give me room. The carpet from the door mat felt coarse on my skin but I hardly registered the feeling amongst the chaos of sensations flooding my body. I felt vaguely like a puppet as he once again pulled my hair so that I sank lower on my knees and my face tilted upwards. 

“Daddy,” I begged. “I’m sorry! Please, don’t!”

For a moment, he looked down at me with my hair in one fist and his other clenching his cock.  A flicker of something, an emotion, crossed his features.

He spit on my face.

"Please," I whispered meekly, wincing with the impact. "Please." 

His spit snaked its way down the side of my nose and into the corner of my mouth. It mixed with my tears.

All the times I teased him and brought him to the edge of a climax finally boiled over. I had, over the course of the day, built his arousal to a level he had never attained before. He shook as a wave of pleasure overtook him and he groaned.

“You bratty little slut,” he grunted. “This is for your own good.” 

I watched intently as he stroked his cock mere inches from me, arching my back slightly as he tugged at my hair and presenting my face at just the right angle. A small bit of cum glistened on the tip of his dick for a brief moment. And then.. 

..an eruption! 

I watched his cock throb and, with each successive spasm, thick ropes of cum soared through the air and splashed onto my face. I froze, transfixed by the intensity of his orgasm and the moans and obscenities escaping from his mouth. I watched through my unblinking eyes, silently grateful for all the training Daddy had me endure to prevent flinching. Every second that passed, I felt more of his warm cum added to my features. Watching it up close, even in these circumstances, was a life-affirming experience every time.

The first of his cum started on my lips and traveled to the center of my forehead where the largest of his warmth came to rest. The second and third followed much the same trajectory, but at slightly different angles. The following two landed on my left cheek. And the remaining five, though much smaller in volume, still were enough to cover the tip of my nose and chin. 

He had virtually covered my face in his cum, at least I thought he had. I'd never felt this much at one time. He was standing over me, stroking his cock, wearing a satisfied look on his face.

“What do you say sweetheart,” he asked.

“Thank you, daddy,” I said, looking up at him and trying on a smile. 

I meant it. Daddy’s cum was always desperately wanted. Always. But I wanted for him to fuck me in our bedroom, and I was already worrying about how we’d get to the car without someone seeing I was wearing his cum. Even if it weren’t against his rules, I still wouldn’t dream of wiping his cum away. 

“You’re welcome baby girl.”

“Can we go?”

His features darkened. I knew I made a mistake the moment the words left my cum-covered lips.

“You don’t fucking learn, do you,” he bellowed.

Once more, I felt my head being pushed down onto his cock. I squealed in surprise but obediently took him into my mouth, my tongue coaxing the remaining cum from his cock. He held me there, simply allowing himself to throb and grow in my mouth. I looked up at him as I felt his sweet milky seed grace my tastebuds.  

“You stupid fucking slut,” he said from under his breath. “You’re mine and you will do what I say.

With that, he began fucking my mouth violently. Cum dripped from my chin and swayed with motion of his thrusts. Saliva once again overflowed from my mouth.  

After one more final deep thrust into my throat, he dragged me to my feet by my hair. His cock dripped with my spit, and it glistened in the moonlight. He promptly spun me, hiked up my dress, and prepared to enter me. I hadn’t realized how unbelievably turned on I was until a breeze caressed the wet skin. 

I struggled and thrashed, but my tiny body had little influence on what he was planning. I knew it. He knew it. But I had to try.

“Daddy, we can’t do this,” I gasped.

He pushed me forward into a hip-high stack of wooden pallets covered by a blue tarp, knocking the wind out of me. I was made to lean over them, my toes just barely making contact with the ground. I tried to push off again while struggling to breath, but Daddy was already behind me. 

The growing sensation in the back of my mind became clearer. It was fear, but it was something more. A voice. One that had been saying the word I didn’t hear until now. Or acknowledge.

Rape. He is raping you.

I hadn’t believed it before because rape happened to someone else. And a blowjob can’t be that either, can it?

He raped your mouth.

I tried the words in my mind, mulling them over. They sounded provocative, if not accurate. Those words started to turn me on a little. So maybe it wasn’t that.

But this was a step further than that. Did I want it?

“No!”

In one swift movement, he kicked my feet out to further spread my legs. The head of his cock rubbed back and forth on my clit, then pushed. I felt a slight pop as it entered, then the growing sensation of feeling full. His hips made contact with my butt as he shoved his entire length into me, and I fought the animal instinct to fully submit to him.

Daddy started rhythmically fucking me. I felt his hands exploring my hips then firmly grabbing hold.

“Look,” he said from behind me, gesturing ahead of us.

I followed his pointing, toward the window in front the pallets. The darkened interior, black curtains, and the direction of the light in the alleyway gave the glass a mirror-like finish. And I could clearly see our reflection in it. Seeing him behind me like this was dreamlike, his face contorted in pleasure. 

Using the reflection, he reached around to the front of my dress and grabbed my spit-soaked top. His fingers brushed against my chest as he took hold of the fabric covering them. Without warning, he used both hands to tear the front of my dress down to my belly button.  

My titties sprang free, and I started to protest. It was a reflex, the sudden sorrow of having one of my favorite dresses ruined. He silenced me with a squeeze from his hand that had suddenly found itself around my throat. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled into my ear. “Daddy needs to rape you. It’s for your own good. Do you understand?”

And I did understand. I had been out of control. I was not being his good girl. 

“Yes-s-s Dadd-y-y,” I breathed, the sounds more coming from the result of each of his thrusts than anything I had any power over.

As my vision had begun to darken at its edges, he released at the perfect time -- then began again. His other hand fondled my breasts with no real intent other than to show more control over my body. At certain points, and entirely by chance, his fingers would overstimulate my nipples. It would send a ripple of pleasure through my body that I tried and failed to ride.

“Look at yourself,” he demanded in my ear. He grabbed a fist full of my hair and pulled, wrenching my neck in a way that made it impossible to see anything but the window.

I was right about the sensation I felt earlier; my face was absolutely covered with his cum. I looked beautiful. Each time he thrust his cock inside me, I could see and feel the globs of his cum on my face vibrate like Jell-o. A particularly fat string of semen mixed with my drool hung from my chin, swaying back and forth.

I was both his priceless work of art and a useless cum rag unworthy of his continued focus.

I looked past myself and could see Daddy thoroughly enjoying my body. Seeing his muscled arms enveloping me and bending me to his will was overwhelming my senses. Finally, I had a complete visual of how utterly dominant he had been with me. 

“Who’s Daddy’s little slut,” he asked.

“Me, Daddy,” I cried.

I heard giggles come from the storefronts. A cluster of three college-aged girls roughly my own age peered around the corner. They made no attempt to conceal themselves or their excitement.

“Yeah daddy, fuck your little slut,” one of them called out. The others giggled enthusiastically. Another had their phone in an outstretched arm, clearly filming us.

My face burned with embarrassment. Panic coursed through my body, and I sobbed. Being caught, filmed, and harassed. The unthinking pleasure that had eased my mind was turning into my nightmare. I wanted it all to stop.

This is definitely rape, I thought.

I fought and struggled, but it was just as futile as before. I begged. I cried. 

Daddy turned his head to the source of the girl’s chatter and they fell silent under his glare. They disappeared into the night, a shuffle of feet on sand. I knew they were still close by. I would be.

His commanding presence made me tremble with fear. It was such a turn on.

My knees and elbows shook and gave out, but he brought me closer to his body. His arms wrapped further around my body. My toes left the ground and I found myself completely held up by him. 

As if the physical act and timing of being swept off my feet were a metaphor for an orgasm, it came. 

Wave after wave of sensation crashed into me as he played the perfect rhythm to my contractions. The shaking of my thighs intensified as my eyes closed and I moaned his name. A tingling so intense I nearly passed out radiated out from my tummy. Or at least I thought that’s where it originated. The outside world went dark, and it was only me and Daddy. My mind skipped and I went limp. 

Consciousness returned, and I felt another orgasmic wave crash into me just as he thrust into me. 

Skip. 

Daddy pulled my hair, demanded I look at my reflection. My eyes rolled in uncontrolled circles, struggling to focus.. 

Skip. 

A steady image of myself in the mirror, dripping with daddy’s seed and a realization of utter submission on my face. A wave of realization that this was my purpose, to serve him and please him. I craved his cum. 

Skip. 

“-you’re Daddy’s useless little whore,” he said from what sounded very far away. 

I agreed in my mind. Or was it out loud? I couldn’t think.

Skip

“-you’re lucky I breed you at all.”

I involuntarily clenched at that. My thoughts once again taking form in my short-circuited brain. I was lucky.

I felt it, more than saw it. He couldn't hold on anymore and I didn’t want him to. He thrusted deep inside, and I felt his cock get somehow harder and bigger.. Then an intense throbbing and twitching as if it were possessed. I moaned and cried out his name as he kissed my shoulder and the back of my neck. 

Daddy’s knees grew weak, and we fell forward onto the pallets. My breasts flattened against the rough planks and cold, damp tarp. My chin slammed into the wood, but I was unwilling to let any of his cum be ruined by laying on the side of my face. My legs dangled off the side but his remained planted firmly. 

His cock unleashed itself and pumped me full of warmth. I felt his seed coat the inside of me as I was pushed over the edge again. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. All that existed was the knowledge that I was about to become complete.

"Oh my god," he gasped rapidly. "Oh my god, baby girl.” 

“Daddy,” I exhaled, expending the last of my oxygen in a half-plea, half-encouragement. At that moment, I’d suffocate myself if it added to his pleasure.

I reached behind me and grasped the back of his thighs to pull him in even closer. It was a desperate attempt to make him go deeper. It was an animalistic greed. My wet cunt milked his cock, coaxing more of his gift from him. As his orgasm subsides, I silently hoped it would begin again. 

Daddy pushed away and I felt my fingertips slip past his thighs. He pulled his cock out of me and a rather large volume of cum followed, spilling onto the ground and down my legs. I clenched, diligently keeping as much of him inside of me. The effort was taxing. My legs felt like jelly, vibrating with the aftershock of what happened.  

I admired myself in the reflection of the window as he slumped over and leaned backward against the pallets next to me. He stared up at the night sky like he had just seen some heavenly presence. His chest heaved up and down from the exertion. Sweat ran down his body and snaked over muscle and between his abs. The moisture and the lighting really did his body justice. 

I looked back and down toward his cock which, while still erect, was becoming noticeably less so. 

Finally, I was able to push myself to my feet. My knees wobbled and I steadied myself with a hand on his chest. My tattered and soaked dress was unrecognizable. The shoulder straps, having lost their usefulness, left the ripped top hanging limply around my waist. In a stupor, I tried pulling them back over my shoulders but the top hid nothing anymore. I let them drop once more. 

He watched me struggle to come back to reality, a look of amusement on his face. Almost drunkenly, I dropped to my knees and dutifully sucked the last of the cum out of his cock. My knees ached but I was determined to not let a drop of it go to waste. In my addled brain, I viewed the act as a form of worship, cleaning his cock of my sin. I continued until I no longer could taste my juices on him.

Once Daddy was satisfied, he roughly pushed me away from him. I fell backward, catching myself awkwardly in a sort of lounging position and watched as he put back on his pants and buttoned his shirt. 

He reached back down, helped me to my feet, and marched me out of the alley with a firm hand on my arm. I panicked, covering my breasts with the palm of my hand and forearm. They glistened in the moonlight, and he allowed me this bit of modesty. 

"My face," I exclaimed, remembering that his cum still ran down my face. 

"Leave it." 

I obeyed, not really sure what was happening but still far too horny to have any semblance of rational thought. 

It was late, so hardly anyone was out at this hour. Still, my eyes darted back and forth looking for those girls who had seen us. There was no sign of them.

Did it matter now, I wondered as we rounded the corner of the restaurant.

"Sorry, excuse -" 

The waitress stopped mid-sentence. Everyone froze.  

I smiled awkwardly and bit my lip as I fell under her gaze. Her expression was curious but otherwise unreadable. Her hand peeled away the forearm that covered my breasts and she touched the fabric of my tattered dress as though she were assessing the damage. She brushed the hair that stuck to my face by his cum behind my ear, smiled, and nodded.

“She’s pretty,” she said.

“Yes, she is. Baby girl is perfect,” Daddy said.

I glowed with pride.

(Xユーザーのばむ🐹さん: 「しろ https://t.co/gUlDLtHslA」 / Xから)

Basically…YES ! 💗🥰💗

Original caption by Kim