Dad's The Man Ch. 11

I knew something was up when Daddy was late getting home, but when he came down the basement with Gina, who I didn't know would be over today, both of them coming toward me with smiles, I knew something unusual was happening.

"Should I hang on to the hammer?" I asked.

"Nope, put it down and come with us," he said.

"And close your eyes," Gina added.

I should have guessed when they took me outside, but I was totally surprised to open my eyes to an old, faded red Trans Am. I screamed, jumped up and down, threw my arms around Daddy and kissed his face all over. It's a seventy-nine, an actual antique, and he says it has the six point six engine and that it's rust free. Sure, the paint is faded and the passenger door doesn't work 'cause there's a bash at the bottom of the door, another behind the rear wheel, but Daddy says that it's straight and solid and that the damage can be fixed. Besides, it's still got the big eagle on the hood and the coolest red and white interior.

He warned me up and down to be careful with it, smiling and waving in the driveway when I took it out for a test run with Gina in the passenger seat. Wow, is it ever powerful. Even when I just put it in gear and take my foot off the brake, you can tell how powerful it is. It feels like I could haul a house over with it and it's got these big, fat tires on the back. Needless to say, I LOVE IT!!!

When we got back, I sucked his cock and fucked him until he begged me to stop while Gina watched with a smile, sitting to the side with legs spread, fingers under her short skirt and down the front of her panties. When he couldn't handle any more, I pushed her down to the carpet and had a sixty-nine with her until we both came.

Sometimes, I just can't believe how happy I am and how good my life is.

May 27/09

The electrician, or the guy who likes to call himself one, was back today. He wasn't too pleased about it, either, but I'm not too pleased about being ripped. If I can tell shoddy workmanship just from watching the DIY channel and googling stuff, I'd think the Building Inspector will see it, too. Plus, he actually fixed it the way I wanted it, which proves he knew I was right.

If he'd kept his mind more on his work than his stupid cell phone, maybe he'd have done better, but that's his problem, not mine. And if he thought I was dumb because I'm a girl and I look so young, the fact that he now knows better won't get him another job in our house. Sometimes, coming off like I'm sixeen years old is a pain and I wish I could just grow up somehow.

So, I'm in the basement, checking over his work, making sure he at least actually put the protective collars in the boxes this time, when I hear someone come in the house from the back door. The asshole electrician had left about five minutes before and I wondered if he'd forgotten something.

"Hello!?" I called.

No answer, other than someone walking across the floor up there.

My heart sped up and I walked on the toes of my snakeskin ball breakers, the ones Gina got me for my birthday, bending and retrieving a crowbar, which I'd nicknamed 'The Persuader', from the floor. Moving quietly across the raised, bare plywood surface for the stairs, I guessed from the footfalls that, whoever it was, had moved down the hall. I ascended the stairs, holding the persuader ready to swing in case there was more than one.

Once in the kitchen, I heard someone moving around, sure enough, down the hall, those subtle sounds you almost sense with your feelings, not your ears. Taking a quick look out the kitchen window, I drew a deep sigh of relief, lowering the persuader and relaxing my muscles.

Gina's car was out in the driveway. Why, I couldn't guess, seeing as how she wasn't expected today, or even tonight, plus her shift at Jaybirds was only half done, by my watch. I put the persuader on the counter, walking out of the kitchen, into the hall and down to my room, shaking my head at my paranoia and smiling a little sheepishly about it.

"Smutty?" I asked, opening the door and walking in.

She wasn't there. The bathroom door was wide open and I could see she wasn't in there either, so I moved down to Daddy's room.

"Gina?" I called again, coming through the door.

She was standing beside Daddy's bed, in the middle of trying to remove one of her dance costumes, the 'Little Red Riding Hood' one, the cape and hood already off, but nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, what's going,... on,...?" I trailed off.

The beginnings of some pretty bad bruising spotted her bare arms and legs, her hair was a mess and she moved like she'd been hit by a truck.

I was by her side in less than a second, lightly taking her by the shoulder and trying to brush some of the tangled hair out of her face, which she kept pointed at the floor.

"Baby, what happened?" I asked in alarm as she stood there trembling.

She slowly looked up at me as I brushed more hair away from her face and what I saw truly shocked me. One of her eyes had been blackened, the white of that eyeball blood red. Another bruise defiled her opposite cheek, her lower lip was split and there were scratches on her forehead and bloodied nose. Her makeup was a ruin and I could tell she'd tried to wipe it off, the effort probably aided by the tears she'd been shedding, judging by the tearstains in the smudged mess she left behind.

"What the fffuck!?" I breathed, my shock deepening. "Gina,... what happened!?"

"Just- please help meee?" she whined, a fresh tear escaping the corner of each eye as she painfully tugged at her costume.

I did as asked, working gently while in a daze, wondering what, or who was responsible for this horrible thing. I got the short dress off her, then the bra and panties.

There were bruises everywhere. She began pulling the already made bed down, me snapping out of my renewed shock at the sight of her back, bum, tummy and chest.

"Baby,... you need to go to the hospital, okay?"

"I was. P-please just help me into bed," she asked, crying harder now.

I slowly, carefully got her on the mattress and between the sheets, handling her lightly, being careful of where to touch and asking her constantly if she was okay and if what I was doing was hurting her. She cried silently, hiding her face as I looked on, but I wanted answers and I meant to have them.

I got on the bed with her in my old, faded blue work jeans and black T-shirt, still wearing my tool belt with my arm resting lightly over her, allowing her to grab my hand and pull it around her tighter.

"Gina,..." I whispered, "What happened?"

" ... I- I got in a fight."

" ... A fight? With who?" I very much wanted to know.

"T-Tanya and Tisha. I said something I p-prob'ly shouldn't have and we argued a b-bit. Then Tanya pushed me and,... (sob) They started hitting me and the rest of the girls ch-cheered them on. I tried, but,... there were two of them and, and I- I fell down and they k-kicked me,... (sob) They just kept kicking me and kicking me! And they all laughed!"

"They what!?" I asked in a small, but shrill tone, imagining what she described, my poor helpless Gina at the mercy of two fucking bitch stains as they kicked her like she was nothing.

"I b-begged them to stop!" she sobbed openly, "I said I was sorry! Why didn't someone help me!?"

I was covering my mouth with my hand, holding my breath for some reason while tears of rage and sympathy flooded from my eyes. I trembled all over, my legs and arms feeling jumpy with pent up energy that demanded release.

"I was so scared! Humiliated! I hate them, I fucking hate them all!" she cried. "God help me, I fucking hate their guts and I hope they die!!"

She only cried after that and I just held her as her body shook with her heartbreaking, broken sobs, making soothing sounds in her ear with a tone as hard as steel, fine as the sharpest edge until she'd calmed somewhat. I slowly got off the bed, taking note of the time by the clock radio.

"Gina, baby, I'm going to get you cleaned up a little, okay?"

She nodded, sniffling and hiding her face in the blankets again.

I came back with a facecloth and a bowl of warm water, going to work with shaky hands, wiping the rest of her makeup off, gently scrubbing at the blood from her nose and split lip. She nodded and gestured to her purse when I asked her if they gave her any pain medication at the hospital. Finding it quickly, I brought it to the kitchen where I read the directions and put them up over the sink, where we keep such things, until her next prescribed dosage. From the same cupboard, I removed the bottles of Niacin and Melatonin, shaking out a few of each before getting a glass of water and going back to Daddy's room.

"Just take these now, okay? They'll help you to feel better and to sleep."

She took them as I asked and burrowed back into the blankets, turning her battered face from me once again, crying softly.

That's what really did it to me.

Bending over her, I kissed her cheek a few times, fresh tears from my eyes landing on her face as I did. She was still crying softly and my heart broke for her, the poor thing who apparently hadn't seen enough hardship and trauma in her life at the hands of others.

"Babydoll,... I'm gonna make a real quick run to the drug store for some Icycold patches. Will you be okay until I get back?"

She only nodded.

"Okay. Hang tough, sweetie, I'll be back soon and, if I get held up, Daddy will be back soon, too. He'll help."

I stomped through the kitchen, wiping my tears, dropping my tool belt to the floor without stopping, and went out the back door, closing and locking it behind me. I got in the Trans Am and hit the street in a fishtail, the powerful engine roaring my feelings of the moment

Less than one half hour later, I parked in the lot behind Jaybirds, several packages of Icycold in a plastic bag on the back seat. Without hesitation, I got out of the car and slammed the old door with a hollow, rattling bang and headed around the building for the front entrance.

Finding no Doorman at his post on my arrival was convenient, not that I wouldn't have gotten in anyway. I proceeded through the small, dimly lit, red lobby, vaguely assuming there'd be no real need of a doorman at this time of day, and started down an even dimmer hallway, bass music pumping from further on along with an announcer's voice.

Having been there a couple times with Gina, I knew to go straight to the end of the hall and, instead of turning right to go into the club where the stage with its chrome pole was, go through the door there at the end, instead.

Finding myself in a shorter, more brightly lit hall with stacks of empty beer boxes lining its walls, I moved forward again, beyond a walk-in freezer, janitorial closet, and straight to the dressing room, furthest door on the right.

Again, without hesitating, I walked straight in, only now pausing to take a look around in the open doorway.

There were seven or eight girls in the long room, (I didn't count because I was only interested in two) all of them laughing like hyenas, yelling, swearing and in various states of dress. They sat along the two side walls at little vanity pods that were attached to the wall, a mirror above each paraphernalia laden surface. None of them noticed me as I stood there trembling, suddenly spotting a few smears of blood on the gray painted, cement floor.

Of course, that was the spot where they beat her up, kicking her while she was down and crying. While the rest of them laughed.

I slammed the door shut as hard as I possibly could, making every one of the skanks jump a foot and bringing all conversation to a halt. After locking it, I glared at them all, now with their complete attention.

"You got a problem, kid?" one of them asked as if my very existence was a disgusting mistake.

"Tanya and Tisha," I said simply, in a tone that was as tight as a drum head.

There were a few sniggers, probably about how my voice makes me sound like a kid, but two dancers along the left wall, sitting side by side stood, looking me over closely now. One, the furthest one and standing behind the other, was taller than Gina and was obviously doing a heavier weight training regime. The other was shorter, with about the same muscle tone and mass. They were both blonde, quite attractive and, as Gina had once mentioned, in very good shape with nice hips and boobs. I figured them both to be about Gina's age as they stood there in their matching, sequined bikinis, their eyes holding curiosity as well as humour.

The shorter one in front said, "I'm Tanya. Do I know you? Like I would? What are you anyway, a Marilyn Monroe wanna be? You know she was blonde, right?"

The others sniggered at this, as though anyone should know she was too good to know me, as well as the fact that Marilyn was blonde. That was okay, this was about Gina, not me, and I led them straight to that with my next words, delivered in a tone bursting with dangerously compressed emotion.

"You beat up my Gina!"

There was a brief pause, then someone mocked my words and voice with a childlike tone, inviting the laughter of the room again.

"Oh my god," Tisha laughed, "This is the dyke's girlfriend! Honey, your Gina's a child molester!!"

Now they were almost falling out of their seats laughing and, even in hindsight, that was really the best time to totally and completely trip out.

I rushed them, breaking into almost instant top speed, covering the twenty or so feet between us before they could even completely stop laughing. Tanya managed to awkwardly step back, half raising her arms protectively in surprise and disbelief as I closed with her and drove one of my ball breakers straight into her crotch, turning her humour and surprise to dreadful shock as I grabbed her by the hair and started beating her face with my fist as hard and as fast as I could.

Amidst the sudden screams, some of them mine, she tried to ward me off, twisting and turning in a purely instinctual manner, tripping and falling over Tisha's feet, pushing her suddenly concerned friend down underneath her with a yelp. I went down with them, ending up straddling Tanya's hips and grabbing a curling iron that had somehow come to the floor with us. I smashed her face with it three times before it broke in half and she raised her arms, screaming louder and suddenly understanding that I'd brought things to a whole new level.

At least, if she didn't understand that then, she did when I grabbed a matching hairdryer by the crook and started franticly, maniacally beating at her face with that, howling in rage as I grabbed one of her wrists with my other hand.

Tisha made an attempt to stop me, but really couldn't from her position, abandoning the effort in order to try to get out from underneath us as fast as she could. It wasn't fast enough, though. Tanya managed to stop about half of the hair dryer blows with her free hand, though only to have her knuckles beat into her face anyway, but she was pretty much finished by the time the plastic casing came apart in my hands.

Now Tisha was grabbing for me again, even as she was just getting to her feet. I scrambled to mine and lunged at her, receiving a hard kick to my upper thigh, driving me back. She came on without hesitation, fists flying and catching me hard on the side of the head as she collided with me and we both went to the floor, rolling, punching and scratching viciously.

If I was worried about her size, it turned out that there was no need to be. Being smaller, she had a hard time getting and keeping a hold of me as I twisted, jerked around and wrythed, gaining the advantage and not being stopped by her strength, thanks to Daddy's home fashioned exercise machine.

She managed to separate and struggle back to her feet before I could get on top of her, me getting to mine after, but in plenty of time to see her breathing hard, hanging back and trying to rest a moment. Obviously, running up twelve stories of apartment building wasn't in her exercise regime and I was mindlessly charging her before I was even standing straight, closing with flying fists, snarling like a little animal. She used her height to push me down and start swinging at my head and ribs, hockey style. I started to take quite a beating, but that wasn't going to save her, either.

Grabbing her knees, which were until that instant repeatedly flying at my dodging face, actually hitting me once, I shoved forward and heaved up with all I had, clearing her from the floor and running forward with an angry howl and her hanging on. I smashed her right into one of the wall mirrors, cracking it to a spider web, her hip landing on the vanity station below as its user screamed and quickly vacated her chair, her things flying every which way.

I came up punching, clawing and ripping, taking a few more hard punches to the face before she gave me another solid kick to the same spot on my leg from her half reclined position on her outer thigh, driving me backward.

I was back at her before she could even sit up, or get off the station, totally uncontrollable and unstoppable, still ripping and smashing like I was when I first started. She kicked me away again and I came right back, grabbing her hair with both hands and smashing her head against the ruined mirror several times before she again managed to repel me. But now she had the look of fear in her eye. When I came back that time, she was holding her arms up defensively, trying to shrink into the wall and away from me.

I tore at her, terrorized her until she was screaming and begging me to stop. I grabbed her ankle, twisted it painfully and hauled her off the station with a jerk, landing her on the floor on her back. Before she could raise one of the hands that she'd used to break her fall, I brought the sole of my shoe down on her face with a very satisfying stomp. This pretty much finished her and she kind of slowly curled to her side in the fetal position, spitting out a few teeth.

Then I kicked the hell out of her.

When I was done, I noticed that Tanya had made it to the door on her knees. She was trying to open it, obviously not understanding that it was locked. I walked up and drove the sole of my shoe into her back, right between the shoulder blades, smashing her into the door, the knob making what must have been painful impact with her chest. I dragged her back into the room a little way by the foot as she tried to plead with me through her ruined, bleeding lips and broken nose.

Yeah, right. The only mercy she got when kicked the shit out of her was none at all. When it was over and the two bitches were moaning pathetically, barely moving, badly broken and bloodied, I glared at the rest of them, my lungs now heaving in as much air as they could get after my mindless frenzy of kicking and stomping at them.

As soon as I reasonably could, I asked, "Wha'? Not so fuckin' funny this time? ... Yeah! You fuckin' bitches better leave my Gina alone from here on in! If I have to come back here,... I'll beat every god damned one of you like I did them!"

This time, nobody made fun of my voice. I could tell by the shocked and horrified expressions of the small group, huddled fearfully in the corner of the room that they believed me, too. And right they should because I was, and still am, one hundred percent serious about that.

I left the dressing room, noticing my shirt had been torn half off and one side of my sport bra was visible. I tucked the shirt under the strap and kept walking down the short hall as the announcer blabbered about something from within the club, exiting to the longer, dark hallway.

Still nobody at the front door and I walked back outside unhindered, the sunlight making me squint my eyes. It didn't seem that sunny and nice when I went in there.