Total pages in book: 216
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
I put the dish sponges up to dry and hurry up the stairs to my room, feeling much lighter than I have all week. Taking a shower only further loosens the last little bit of tension from my muscles. I slip into bed, totally calm and relaxed.
I settle under the covers and read for a while until it’s nine-thirty and my eyes get too heavy to stay open any more. It’s early for me but after my week of non-sleep, I turn off my overhead light and slip back into bed.
My nightlight’s on. Naturally.
Just the perfect level of darkness. I close my eyes and settle onto my side. I’m about to doze off when I get the slightest chill down my spine. Silly, but I think it’s because my back is to the door.
Which is absolutely ridiculous. Oh my God, what am I? Seven years old?
Still, I roll over, open my eyes quickly, see that my door is firmly shut, and breathe out in relief.
Then I close my eyes again and snuggle deeper into my pillow.
Still, a second later, that same stupid chill comes again.
I internally roll my eyes at myself and groan. I refuse to spend another sleepless night jumping at every other noise.
Still, I obey the dumb compulsion and my eyes flip open.
Only to see Dad’s huge silhouette filling my door.
I scream and grab my pillow to my chest. Then I throw it at him. “You scared the crap out of me.”
Dad catches the pillow, chuckling as he steps into the room and approaches my bed. “Daddy’s sorry, sweet girl.” His voice seems deeper than it was just a couple of hours ago in the kitchen.
In only a few of his long-legged strides, he’s over to my bedside. He sits down and lays his large hands on my shoulders. Without much effort he rolls me slightly so that I’m on my stomach and he’s massaging my back.
“You’ve told me about your homework and what you’ve been doing at school during dinner the past few days,” Dad says, leaning over, “but you haven’t told me what I’ve really wanted to know.” This last part he hisses in my ear.
I tremble underneath him as his hands get rougher kneading my shoulder muscles and the back of my neck.
“W-w-what’s that?” I ask, hating how timid my voice sounds. Why am I muttering like a bumbling idiot. I’m supposed to be communicating my wants and needs. I take a gulp of air. “I was hoping we could talk tonight ab—”
“You haven’t told me whether or not you’ve been a good girl or a bad girl,” he growls. And then without waiting for me to reply, he flips me over on his lap, yanks down my panties, and his palm lands on my ass.
I yelp in surprise as he spanks me again, hard and sure. “Have you been letting other boys look at what’s mine?” he asks before landing another smack. “Have you been flaunting that tight little ass and making the schoolboys’ cocks hard now that you know how good dicks feel shoved up your nasty cunt?”
“Wha—? No, I would nev—”
“Don’t lie to me!” he yells. “Once little girls get cock, it’s all they can think about. I know how you little sluts are. I try to find you when you’re pure. Before the world corrupts you. When you’re still sweet. Are you still my sweet girl?”
He jams a finger up inside me.
And I’m not dry.
I’m slick. As rough as he is, his finger slips right in.
Somehow all of his rough, filthy talk, even his meanness, has made me wet.
I like this?
This turns me on?
Dad sticks a second finger inside me and starts to scissor them, stretching me and making me even slicker for him.
“Fuck but you’re so sweet and tight while you’re still innocent,” he mumbles into my hair. “You smell like a beautiful, sweet little girl should. So clean and fresh and good.”
“Just for you and Dom,” I whisper, panting and on the edge of tears again even while confusing sensations of pleasure rise up in my belly. “No one else. Ever!”
I don’t know why he’s saying the things he’s saying. They’re mean and hurtful and I was supposed to be standing up for myself. Talking in a mature way about what I want and expect and—
“Christ, sweet girl, maybe you are the one after all,” Dad says.
Then he flips me over and I hear the noise of a buckle being undone.
Even though I’m expecting it, the brief second of bracing myself still isn’t enough to prepare for his giant cock breaching me.
There’s no gentle nudge and exploration of my lips like Dominick did. No, like before, Dad impales me long and hard, piercing me straight through and pinning me to the bed.
I let out a low, “oof,” at the pain of it.