April's Awakening Ch. 02

Sometimes, it can be pretty easy to put a bad decision behind you. That's what April decided when she woke up the next morning. At 21, she had had plenty of years being an absolute knockout; with a short bob of deep brown hair, being 5'6", thin, and with an impressive 36D chest, she was used to men fawning over her. She was, in short, used to getting what she wanted from a man. It was that spirit that had led her to a hotel bar far enough from her college that she could find some older businessman to give her an anonymous fuck. It was one of her dirty pleasures in life--well, one of them anyway. She would simply go there, wait for the first descent guy to hit on her, then she would let him take her upstairs.

That's how it had started with Duane, but it hadn't ended that way. He took her upstairs, but didn't act like a nervous married man in his fifties who was lucky to fuck a college girl. He stared at her, seeing deep inside her. He told her things, not asked them. April was used to having experienced men use their fingers, tongues, and dicks on her for her pleasure, but he had told her to get on her knees, and she had. He told her to suck, and she did. And, even though she had a firm rule against it, he had told her he would cum on her face, and he did. That night, as April drove home, still aware of the smell on her cheeks despite her scrubbing, she wondered why she had left him her cell phone number. She went to bed feeling like a dirty, cheap whore, and wondered why she had let herself be used like that.

And so, the next morning, she decided to put the bad decision behind herself. She went to the gym before classes, working especially hard to keep her toned butt looking perfect. That night, she went to a club with her roommate Kaye. Surprisingly, it was Kaye who left early with a guy; April, instead, stayed and danced, making sure to tease as many guys her own age as she could. She wouldn't let herself be used again.

It was like that for much of the next week: April had a newfound sense of empowerment and a burning desire to make men pay for what Duane had done to her. She flirted with guys then disappeared and impressed her friends by being a big bitch to anyone who got in her way. She was sure that she had forgotten her mistake.

Then one day after a particularly boring math class, she turned on her cell phone and saw that a message was waiting for her. She listened: "April, this is Duane. I will be at the hotel two nights from now. You will meet me in the bar at 8 o'clock. Dress like the girl I know you to be." She laughed and deleted the message, deciding to go dancing that night, just to spite him.

But as the days went on, she felt the burning inside her start to increase. The burning wanted her to do as she was told, to stop making decisions that she shouldn't. She had accepted the fact that she was going to see him again when she was shaving her pussy in the shower. April had ached to touch it, to scrap all plans, go back to her room hoping that Kaye would be gone, and to spend the night naked on her bed with her vibrator buried deep inside. That was when April realized that she hadn't had an orgasm since meeting him, and that perhaps tonight he would let her feel pleasure. And so, it was almost 7 o'clock when she was pulling up her pink low-rise thong, getting ready to meet Duane at the hotel bar.

"Ooh, looking hot baby!" a voice giggled. It was Kaye; in the last week or so, she annoyingly had been giving April less privacy. Though she was many things, it simply made April feel uncomfortable being watched by another girl as she dressed.

"Thanks Kaye," April responded sweetly as she reached for her bra. The anticipation for the night had made her nipples very hard, and she wanted to cover up out of embarrassment.

"...You hitting the clubs tonight?"

April mentally sighed. Kaye was becoming a hanger-on as of late. And it went without saying that when a girl is meeting an older man simply because he ordered her to, hangers-on only complicate matters. "Nope, just meeting up with someone, that's all." She then reached for her pair of tight tan pants with the zipper in the back. She knew Duane told her to dress like the girl he knew her to be; he wanted something that was almost slutty. But with Kaye watching, April didn't want her roommate thinking tonight's adventures did include a trip to a club after all. Completing her attire with a pink v-neck top and a necklace, both of which brought attention to her soft, can't-miss cleavage, April told her roommate she'd be back late and left.

Watching her go, Kaye wondered why April looked like meeting up with this mystery man was a chore.

It was 7:45 when April pulled into the hotel parking lot. She sat there for a moment, realizing that this was her last chance to walk away. But she simply couldn't. As embarrassing as it was to admit, she wanted to be used by him. Her body was aching for it--as evidenced by her thong which was already damp. April desperately hoped that he would allow her pleasure tonight; on their first meeting, she had pleasured him, and had left with only the slight smell of his cum on her face. She shook at the thought that he might take her tonight, that he might actually spread her legs, look at her hairless, wet pussy, and decide to fuck her. To cum in her. With that, she realized she had to get inside. Pausing, she took her birth control pill as she had every night since she was 15 and prayed for pleasure.

Walking into the bar of the large hotel, she saw that it the usual clientele of the hotel: businessmen. For months, she had secretly been coming here to use me. But tonight it was different. She sat, slowly sipping rum and coke, for over an hour. Some men came up to her, hitting on her, but she sweetly shot each one down, wondering when Duane would come. Her anticipation had faded and she started to wonder why she was sitting there, waiting for some older man who treated her poorly.

Then suddenly, "April?" She looked up and saw that it was the bartender who was addressing her. She nodded, and he continued. "Your father just phoned down--"April was shocked. Her father? He had been gone for ages. "--from room 818. He'd like you back up there right away." It took April a moment, then she realized that it must be Duane. She looked around; had he been watching her? How did he know she was there?

April blushed, paid her bill, and walked to the lobby elevator. Once inside, she paused, then committed herself and sent the car up to the 8th floor. As the car rose, she felt the sarcastic, free-thinking, independent woman fading away. As the doors opened, she could feel her inner core surging through: she was an obedient girl, and very much looking forward to seeing Duane. She walked to the door, smoothed her clothes, and knocked.

The door opened, and there he was, with no emotion on his face. He smiled a bit, saying, "Hello, my dear," and he leaned forward. In the doorway, he kissed her, softly and familiarly. She was a bit shocked, but of course allowed it. "Come in," he said, and then she was in the room.

It was a typical hotel room: two beds, neat, and looking a bit lived-in. April took a breath and started to feel comfortable. She turned, looking at Duane as he crossed the room. With a knowing smile on her face, she said, "So, my father is in room 818, huh?"

He grinned back, showing playfulness... and a dark side. He sat in a chair; instinctively, April knew to remain standing. He looked over her body, and April started to blush, knowing that she had worn too much all along.

Yet all he said to her was, "Look in the mirror."

She turned and faced the dresser and mirror. She liked the way she looked, the pink in her top suggesting girlish innocence, and her cleavage, accented by the necklace, suggesting that she was quite the woman. She liked the way her tan pants hugged her legs tightly, how when she faced men their eyes would drift to the curve of her hips and not-quite-visible mound between her legs, made tantalizing because these pants zipped up in the back.

"Is this how the girl I know you to be dresses when she's coming to see me?"

April saw her opportunity. Say yes, she thought. Respectfully remind him that she is a worldly woman, and that how she was dressed showed off a killer body. But instead she put her head down and softly replied, "No."

Silence. He didn't agree and he didn't disagree. April could not turn her head; she simply continued to stare at herself. Her face was a bit flushed from embarrassment, and she saw that her nipples were hardening. She heard him stand, walk past her, and into the bathroom. She stood motionless as, through the closed door, she heard him relieve himself. Then the door opened and she heard him chuckle and say to himself, "Remarkable." She smiled a bit, happy with herself. Then Duane spoke again. "I will shower now. I want you to strip and stand in the corner near the windows, facing in, until I tell you otherwise. This is how disobedient girls start to get punished." And with that, the bathroom door was closed again.

April felt confused and pressed down the urge to start to cry. Why was he doing this? Even if she wasn't going to get pleasure tonight, couldn't he just tell her to get on her knees and use her mouth again? She walked near the corner, pulled off her top, and put it on the desk. She had dressed so thoughtfully, and it had disappointed him. Angrily, she unzipped her pants, unsnapped her bra, and quickly was standing there in her delicate, tiny, pink thong. That was when she truly remembered why she was there. She could feel how warm and moist her thong was, and lust washed over her body. Thumbing the waistband, she pulled her thong down, and then was beautifully naked. Neatly adding her thong to the pile, she sighed, attempted to put on a happy face, and faced the corner. Unsure how close to get, she inched closer until her nose was almost touching the wallpaper.

She stood there two minutes... five minutes... at about seven minutes the shower stopped, but the door did not open... and after the ten minutes that felt like an eternity, she heard him reenter the room. She heard him walking, putting things away, and she felt ignored.

"Back to the mirror, about a foot from the dresser," he said out of the blue.

Keeping her eyes on the ground, she quickly complied, feeling her breasts jiggle as she moved fast.

"Put your palms on the dresser."

This, April realized, required her to bend over. He was behind her now, and would see everything. Slowly, she did as she was told, feeling the air touch her moist, hairless pussy.

"Mmmm," Duane sounded approvingly. "I love seeing those titties of yours hang. They're like udders." She blushed, not sure if that last word was a compliment or not. Was she too heavy? Was her chest too saggy? How could any of that be; she was 21, thin, and fit.

"April, look at me," he commanded. She raised her eyes and saw him in the mirror, behind her. He was naked, half aroused, and she thought perhaps he was holding something in his right hand, though she couldn't be sure because her body got in the way. "How did you feel when the bartender told you your daddy wanted you upstairs?"

"I felt good... and relieved. I thought you weren't coming."

His hand softly started to caress her naked behind. "And how did you feel standing in the corner, April?"

She paused, unsure how to describe her feelings. "I was... being punished. And I deserved the punishment." Silence, and the caressing continued. Then April realized she hadn't answered the question, and hastily added, "I felt like I was getting what I deserved."

With that, he moved to her side, his hand sliding from her butt to her hanging left breast. She closed her eyes for a moment, cherishing the feel of his rough hand on her soft skin. But when she opened her eyes, she saw in the reflection what was in his right hand: a leather belt.

Duane squeezed her breast, and she squirmed. "How should you have dressed tonight?" She paused, and before she knew it, SMACK, she felt the unmistakable sting of the belt on her ass. Duane was impressed; she hardly jumped, instead simply lowering her head to deal with the pain.

"I should have dressed like a slut," April said simply.

"And how is that?"

"Well," she quickly answered, "a short skirt, halter top, heels."

SMACK came the belt. She took a breath in--it hurt more that time. Duane asked simply, "Panties?"

The last of her will broken, she whispered, "No panties."

SMACK, then "What did my girl say? Speak up!"

"No panties! No panties!"

Duane chuckled softly and started to gingerly rub her hurting behind. "You're learning, young lady... you're learning." April felt him moving behind her, and she took in a breath of anticipation. He was rubbing her ass with two hands now. "Oh, it's so red..." he said, almost sadly. "I take no joy in punishing you... but I had to." Spreading her cheeks, he said a bit sneeringly, "It must be my fatherly side."

April needed to have him inside her. Humiliated, she lowered her head again, ready and willing to play his game. "I hardly knew my father... he left us." She was rewarded with a quick finger running down her wet pussy; she moaned and continued. "I feel safe with you... protected..." He leaned into her, his cock against her butt. His hands came to her hanging breasts, feeling them, squeezing them. "Maybe you could be it," she added softly. She was no longer playing: she meant it. His hands were now on her round hips, grabbing them sharply. There was one more point of no return, and she didn't care.

In a soft, new voice she said, "You could be my daddy."

With that, Duane thrust into her. April moaned, her body pushed forward onto the dresser, her breasts hitting the drawers. Squeezing her hips very hard, he pushed into her over and over, her whole body shaking each time. Then he slowed a bit, falling into a comfortable rhythm. April closed her eyes, bit her lip, and lowered her head, savoring the feel of this married, middle-aged man obscenely taking her from behind.

It barely registered that he was grabbing a handful of her short brown hair when she felt her head being pulled, snapping up. "You will watch me while I fuck you, girlie," Duane said through gritted teeth.

Her response could be only one thing: "Yes, Daddy." She watched the anger leave his face, replaced by lust. He looked so powerful, standing there behind her, giving her pleasure. Such pleasure it was, and she was so appreciative for it. He started to play with her butt cheeks again, squeezing at first, then spreading them. April could feel him getting closer to orgasm, and she wondered if it was from seeing--and it must have been, because he started to lazily run his thumb across her asshole. She pushed back against his thrusts, cooing "Yesssss," but he would go there another time. She felt him starting to swell inside her, and she could feel her own orgasm building. He pulled at her hair again, bringing her as close as she could be. "C-cum... deep in me..." she moaned. His cock got big in her, shooting warmth, and she came too, hard and wet, screeching, "Daddddddy!"

They held still for a few moments, letting the pleasure fade. She felt him filling her less, then Duane was backing away. In the mirror, she saw him sit on the bed, out of breath. She did not move, waiting for instructions. He made her wait, preferring to watch her bent over, her pussy open, some of his cum slowly oozing out of her.

Then, "Come sit, April," she was told simply. She stood, walked to him, and sat on the floor at his feet. She looked up at him, her eyes big and filled with admiration. What she had said earlier was true: she never really had known her real father. Was this what it felt like, to be so protected and appreciated by a man? Duane started to stroke her hair softly, lovingly. "You're such a pretty girl." She wanted to say something that could convey her emotions. But sitting there, naked at his feet, sated and content, she could only say one thing.

"Thank you, Daddy."