Kidnapped Daughter???


"You gotta use the speaker phone thing...wherever it is," I instructed calmly as we drove through the open door of the hangar.

"What is going on? Are you crazy?" Patty demanded imperiously at the man who opened the car door from the outside.

"Put her in the plane," I ordered.

"DADDY?" she asked while turning in confusion towards me.

"You were right honey. About me. I wasn't going to let you marry that jerk."

"You're not? Really?" she asked, disbelief evident in her voice. "But..."

"Not today anyway. We're going for a little plane ride."


"God daddy, you'll never get away with it. Chris's family have connections everywhere. The goddam Department of Homeland Security will be after you by tomorrow."

"The Arabs," I said laughing.

"What? What Arabs?"

"The Saudis as it turns out my dear. Father murdered, American princess abducted by a Saudi prince...what a headline. You're going to be famous," I chuckled.

"The kidnapped limousine driver will escape later today," I started.

"You actually had the car stolen? The driver kidnapped?" she blurted out in amazement. "You're crazy."

"An anonymous phone tip tomorrow will advise the FBI that the missing limo is at a small airport twenty minutes from the one we actually used. It'll be found in a small private hangar, my blood splayed across the back seat, a back seat that will be punctured by two bullet holes."

"No one will ever believe that."

"A hangar used exclusively by a private Saudi company that ferries Arab bigwigs from the Middle East to Palm Beach. And when the feds get around to examining the flight records they'll find that a plane left the airport at approximately the right time with the thirty-seventh in line to the Saudi throne on board."

"Do you think the government will believe a millionaire Saudi prince has abducted an American from her wedding?"

"Of course. We Americans will believe anything about the Arabs. And in this case the prince involved is actually quite an unsavory character. He's raped at least two girls on his most recent American sojourn. He'd be in jail right now if he wasn't who he is."

"But our government will check."

"Of course they will. And then the Saudis will deny it. We won't believe them but what are we going to do? Saudi oil against little Miss Cooperman. Even with your in-laws influence it's no contest. Oh, they'll be some behind the scenes muttering but eventually they'll just write you off."

"They won't."

"Remember how George let the Saudi planes fly home after 9-11?"

"But what'll happen when I reappear again in a week or so?" my befuddled daughter asked.

"Oh, we'll think of something sweetie."

"What about mum? And grandma...god, she'll have a heart attack."

"Well, I did manage to whisper in your grandmother's ear just as she was leaving for the church that something...something interesting, might happen today. And that she shouldn't worry...everything would turn out okay," I finished.

"I'm supposed to get married today. We're going to Maui...on our can't..."

"You'll still get your honeymoon, just not with pretty boy," I answered beaming proudly.

"Where are we going?"


"South fucking where?"


"Rio?" she asked.


"Who's he?" she asked five minutes later when a man came into the passenger cabin as our plane raced through the sky.

"Father Pierre, we're giving him a ride to his posting in the Amazon. He's from France. An old friend of your grandmother and I."

"Bonjour Mademoiselle Cooperman," the priest said as he stopped in front of my daughter. "I'm so happy for the two of you."

"What?" Patty asked quizzically.

"The good father has agreed to marry us...on the plane."

"But you're my...we can''s impossible," my daughter stammered.

"You're dressed for it," said as I offered her my hand and then lifted her to her feet.

"My fiancée's nervous," I told the bemused priest in French.

"It's always thus," he said shrugging his shoulders and then asked in halting English, "Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"Daddddddy! It won't count anyway. It won't," she insisted even as the priest asked me my question.

"Of course my friend. I love her with all my heart," I said in French, smiling happily at my bride to be.

"LIAR!" Patty spat out as Father Pierre pronounced us man and wife.

My mouth swallowed her protest.


Patty, shaking her head, suddenly started to laugh five minutes later when I'd got her naked in the bedroom at the back of the plane.

"What?" I asked, my cock standing hard and proud between our two bodies.

"Nothing," she chuckled as she moved into my open arms.

"C'mon, what's so funny?" I asked again as her hand found me.

"I'm a virgin," my daughter said giggling.

"Yeah right...a virgin bride."

"I am. It was going to be a surprise. For Chris."


"It was just a small operation," she said, and then finally understanding I started to laugh.

"Little slut," I finally gasped.

"Make me bleed daddy," my daughter pled as she fell back onto the bed, her new surgically inserted hymen ready to be torn asunder.

"I'm going to give you my baby," I promised as I positioned my cockhead at her gates.

"Will it hurt.....ahhhhhhh Daddddddddddddy," she cried as her warm, red blood coated my thrusting lance.


This is my last story of 2006 and would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to vote and comment on my stories this year. It's you kind readers that make it all worthwhile.

Happy holidays to all of you and best wishes for 2007. Thanks, Jim.

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