Back Alley Princess

***All Characters are over the age of 18.***

***

It's cold and it smells like piss. I'm wrapped up in old blankets and the dirty button down shirt of some drunk I sucked off yesterday night. I shudder and pull the blankets tighter around my legs. The old bastard said I hadn't done well enough, and had - with a grin - demanded my panties in exchange for his shirt and a bit of money.

The sun is beginning to fade from the sky, and I can feel from the stirring wind that tonight may be a hard night.

I hum a song from an old Disney film I once saw as I stand up and tie one of the thinner blankets low on my waist like a long, regal skirt. I tie a thicker one around my neck and let it drape across my shoulders, my royal cape, and walk out of the shadowed alley.

There is a brick wall around the corner, just past where the junkies congregate, that is easily visible to passing cars and moneyed pedestrians. I head there, strutting confidently toward a group of tipsy onlookers - three women and two men - that openly stare at my bouncing breasts. I smile at them then break eye contact; I know how dirty I look. The three broken buttons on my shirt means that if someone really wanted to see my dark, pointed nipples, they didn't have to look too hard.

The wind is beginning to pick up, and the thin fabric of my makeshift skirt flaps in the breeze, revealing my surprisingly well-shaved cunt. I can see the shock in their faces, most of the women in the group have fallen silent except for the blonde one that cocks her head to the side and peers into the shadows between my legs. I am a queen among them, I remind myself.

I am enchanting, someone that they want but can't touch - unless they have the money.

I find the brick wall I sought and lean up against it, letting my blanket skirt drape teasingly over my thighs as one hand goes to my clit and the other pulls down my shirt, my fingers teasing my left nipple as the group passes me by.

I force myself not to shiver as the wind picks up, clamping my fingernails down on the tender folds of skin surrounding my clit as I shut my eyes against the cold.

"Hey," a gruff voice says. I look up to see a tall, red-faced man peering down at me, at my hand mechanically rubbing between my leg. He smirks and spits at my feet before taking a deep swig from his - most likely shitty - can of light beer.

I stand up straight and hold my head up high, then arch an eyebrow at him.

"Can I help you?" I ask in a clear, honeyed voice.

"I'll give you twenty if you let me pee on your head," he chuckled, already zipping his pants down.

"No," I replied, stretching my arm and casually glancing at my nails as though they were neatly manicured.

He looked back at the three members of his group that had stayed for the show.

"Look bitch, beggars -"

"- can't be choosers, yeah I've heard that one," I giggled. "What makes you think I'm a beggar hmm? Maybe I just like being dirty..."

I let my comment hang in the air and watch as the gears turn in his brain.

His friend behind him approaches, perhaps having seen the grip on the first one's can of beer tighten, in response to my refusal.

"Okay girlie look, all my friend here," the second one interjects with a smile, clapping his friend on the back, "is trying to say is that he wants to exchange his goods for your services. You're clearly lookin' for money, yeah?

"Well this dude, he's got plenty to spare."

I look at them both with a bored expression, then turn to the girls who are cautiously approaching as well.

"I don't do golden showers, baby. Why don't you run home, yeah?"

The second man's casual smile drops, and the girls and I flinch as the first man - whose face has grown so purple I think he might faint - crushes his beer can and throws it at my chest, the only warning I receive before he lunges at me and rams my back against the wall.

Maintain composure above all else!, Daddy often says.

I take a deep breath and blink away the black spots that formed when my skull bashed against the brick wall. He grabs my face hard enough to leave a bruise and presses my body flush against mine, tearing at the flimsy knot I tied around my waist.

My heart is beginning to race, my breath quickening as he turns my face to the side and trails his tongue from the tip of my chin to my right temple. "You're fucking disgusting," he growls in my ear, the smell of beer and tequila hot against my neck. Faintly, I am aware of his friend ushering away the girls, giving a feeble shrug in my direction, before they disappear around the corner and I am left to deal with their asshole friend alone.

"You don't have shit, you are shit, bitch," he clamors, fingernails digging into my cheeks as he clamps his hand down over my nose and mouth, his free hand reaching up and groping my left breast over my shirt.

"You should be begging me to sit on my dick," he continues, biting down on my shoulder. I shriek into his palm, the pain electrifying my senses and reigniting my fear of suffocation. This isn't Daddy!, my mind shrieks in terror. I claw at his arms, becoming dizzy and clumsy from the lack of oxygen as he forces himself between my legs.

I can feel my body continuing to struggle against him, and I am faintly aware that fingers or dick are now stuffed up inside me, my pussy on fire from the sudden intrusion.

"Fuck," I hear him say in my ear as he realizes he has been cutting off my air. He removes his hand suddenly there is air again, coughing and sputtering and the choked moan as he continues to rut into me. What is that inside me? I wonder.

Princesses think of stars when things get scary, Daddy often says.

Stars. So many stars erupt when the skin of my back tears against the brick wall behind me, pretty red fireworks. Stars between my legs, appearing and disappearing like clockwork, flashing and then disappearing like a lighthouse on a dark night.

Stars and silence and the slick clap of flesh against flesh.

My knees have suddenly struck the ground, and dazed, I look up at the man who has dropped me, a confused, fearful expression on his face. His cock is still out, softening and shriveling in the cold air. He grabs it and stuffs it back in his pants quickly, then shoves his hand in his left pocket, fumbling for what looks like his wallet.

I cock my head to the side, slowly becoming aware of the tears on my face, the hoarse, quiet cries I am emitting. There is a car behind us, why hadn't I seen it before?

Daddy's car.

The chauffeur's door opens and suddenly the chauffeur is there holding a gun to the man's head. The man's face - once red with inebriated anger - now pales and is openly terrified. I smile as the last of my hiccups dissipate and I stand up, wobbling against the wall until I regain my balance.

"Hey yo man, I was planning on paying -"

"-Shut up," the chauffeur replies angrily. "Get in the car."

The man is herded quickly into the car, and the chauffeur returns with my clothing. His light brown eyes are kind, hurt, and full of concern, and I smile and pat his face to reassure him that I'm fine now. He turns around, shielding me from prying eyes while I remove the tattered clothing and scratchy blankets and put on the flared, cotton-candy pink dress Daddy bought for me.

Slowly, so as not to startle me, the chauffeur offers me a slender, muscled arm and I take it, allowing him to lead me the short distance to Daddy's car. He opens the door for me, adding a "Here you are, Lady Lyla," for the benefit of our new guest, and I sit down on the leather seats, now face to face with that man, who was now sandwiched between two men that work for Daddy.

Daddy is with us, and I scoot next to him quickly, my eyes glued on the man opposite us both.

"Look man, I didn't - I was going to give her money, I swear," the now pale man says, a shudder running through him as the car starts and we begin to drive.

Daddy ignores him and picks up my hand, placing it gently between his. The warmth of his touch soothes me immediately, and I sigh happily. "Did my little princess learn her lesson? Is she done acting like a whore?" Daddy mutters softly to me.

"Yes, Daddy," I reply immediately, soft and doe-eyed as I finally make eye contact with him.

Daddy's facial hair is overgrown and greying, his face round and endearingly pudgy as usual, but the tenderness of his gaze and the adoration I feel when I see him mask any doubts I have about his attractiveness.

I don't deserve you Daddy, I think to myself.

Daddy smirks suddenly and whispers something in my ear that I can't quite hear, then pats my hand again and folds it gently in my lap. "Daddy needs to conduct some business now with our guest, alright?"

"Yes Daddy," I smile, my eyes not moving from his face.

"Since you completed your punishment this weekend, I think you deserve a treat Princess. Come get your lollipop and bounce in Daddy's lap."

"Yay!" I smile, visions of bunny rabbits bounding happily in my head, and scramble quickly up onto Daddy's lap, arching my back and fanning out my skirt so Daddy can easily find my entrance. An enormous, spiraled rainbow lollipop appears in my vision, and I take it from Daddy, licking it as I bounce up and down on Daddy's cock, ignoring the adults' conversations around me.

A curdled scream erupts in the seat across from me, but it fades away quickly when Daddy whispers the words, "I love you, Princess." A hazy smile takes over my face and settles there, and my whole world is rainbow lollipops to lick, dicks to bounce on, and the misplaced sound of a gun firing close by.