Puppy-girl Ch. 01

This is my first story, and I'm aware I'm not the best writer. Constructive criticism is welcome!

I'm hoping this will become a longer series. Let me know what y'all think!

--

I was getting pissed off. As much as I tried not to, I couldn't help but feel that itching anger creeping over my skin as I watched the scene play out in front of me. A young girl, probably 21-years-old or less, being groped without consent by the drunk dude who had taken up residence next to her. I watched her swear at him, pushing his hand away as he tried to move it up under the skirt of her dress.

This was a dive bar, so I was used to this type of shit happening, but this punk was so drunk and brazen that I couldn't help but get pissed off.

I watched him lean forward clumsily, his hands like leeches, as he tried to coax a kiss out of her. I decided enough was enough.

My hand reached his shoulder fast and I gripped him tightly.

"I think the lady said no," I said, leaning down close to his ear.

The guy turned, his eyes wild with drink and anger. "Who the fuck are you? Y'wanna tell me again how to treat my girlfriend?"

I balked at the word 'girlfriend'. This drunken punk was her boyfriend? I looked briefly at her; her pale skin had grown a shade of beet red. Her eyes met mine, a deep shade of brown, before they looked away quickly.

"He bothering you?" I asked her, my hand still resting on the punk's shoulder.

He was trying to push my hand off him, but let's face it -- the guy was scrawny, young, and drunk, and I was a lot older and bigger than him. Probably twice their age, to be honest. I sighed as the girl didn't answer, she just looked down at her bare legs like a small child.

"Get th'fuck off me," the punk said, his hands scrabbling at mine to remove my vice grip. "I'll fuck you up!"

Finally, I looked down at the punk. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had a snarl on his face. Very punchable, I thought.

So I decided that's what I was going to do. I looked across the bar to the barmaid, June, who was watching the scene unfold carefully, her eyes meeting mine. Her head shook, almost warning me not to do it, and I shrugged apologetically.

Then I punched the damn punk square in the jaw. He went flying back into the bar, spilling his beer all over the place. He cried out like a little kid and when he managed to get back up, he yelled something incomprehensible to me, an angry red hole where his mouth used to be. But I wasn't done. I gripped the guy's shirt roughly and dragged him across the floor of the bar towards the front door.

"Thanks, Bill," I said quickly to the portly man who had opened the door for me, and I threw the punk down onto the concrete.

I didn't bother to wait and see if he would come back in. I knew he wouldn't. From the tears running down his face, to the blood spilling from his nose, I knew he was done.

I returned to my seat and swallowed the rest of my whiskey. Turning to the girl, I saw that she was gathering up her bag to leave.

"You all good?" I questioned.

She put her small bag over her shoulder and looked up at me. She was striking, that's for sure. Her long auburn hair was pulled behind her cute little ears, and her lips were plump and glossy. For wearing what looked like very little make-up, her skin was perfect.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine," she said, a little breathless. Her hand went to her hair, toying with a long strands as she looked up at me through dark eyelashes. "Thanks, dude."

I placed a hand on her arm to stop her from leaving. "Was that punk actually your boyfriend? You know you shouldn't be treated like that, right?"

Her eyes moved down to my hand and she quickly, but gently, pulled her arm out of my grip. "I know. He's not usually like that... he's just had a few tonight."

"Okay," I answered, frowning at her. "If you wanna believe that then sure."

"Listen, I'm fine," she said with a petulant sigh, crossing her arms and looking at me more seriously. "I can handle myself."

I nodded quietly. I didn't know the girl, and if she wanted to keep that punk around and get in more trouble, she could be my guest.

"Okay, kid. But if you need anything, you can find me here," I said, turning back to the bar. I signalled to June for another drink, and she handed me one quickly.

I didn't watch her leave, but I felt the cool air blowing in from the door being opened and I knew she had. There was something about her, alright. All long legs and moody pout. I could imagine her being a handful, but that punk she was with? He was bad news.

June rolled her eyes at me. "Always sticking your nose in where it don't belong, Joel," she said.

"Yeah, well..." I shrugged and took another swig of my drink, my mind still on the young girl who had just left.

--

One week later

I pulled my shirt on and inspected my reflection, smoothing my hand through my hair. I grunted in annoyance at the grey hairs that were sprouting up more each day. Maybe Sasha was right -- it was getting more normal for men my age to dye their hair, right? A little dye wouldn't hurt to cover this up.

"You coming?" The voice of my friend, Sasha. "It's nearly ten!"

"Yeah, I'm comin'," I answered.

I walked out into my living room and saw Sasha applying another layer of red lipstick. I rolled my eyes at her.

"You look fine, Sash'," I said as I pulled on my coat.

"Mm," Sasha grumbled in response. "I'm gonna score tonight, Joel. Paula will regret ever breaking up with me."

"Come on, hot stuff," I joked, opening the door, and watching her grab her things.

"I'm sorry," a small voice chirped out behind me. "June said you would be here."

Turning, I was astounded to see the young girl from the bar standing at my door. She wore a pair of blue jeans, and a maroon coat was wrapped around her. Her auburn hair looked messy, pulled up into a bun, and her little face seemed timid. Her eyes dashed from me, then to Sasha who had walked up behind me.

"Jeez, Joel, wait until I'm gone before you bring your booty calls round next time, alright?" Sasha said, eyeing up the girl.

"She's not a booty call," I responded quietly, not taking my eyes off the girl. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh... June gave me your address. You said I should find you if I needed anything?"

"Well, yeah, I meant at the bar, not at my home address," I answered, and mentally I made a note to reprimand June for giving out my address to random women.

"Well... I need something," she said, ignoring my comment. "Can I come in?"

Without waiting for an answer, she pushed her way inside, moving into my living room.

"Make yourself at home," I muttered, watching her move to my sofa and perch herself on it.

I heard Sasha sigh behind me. "Is this gonna be a thing? Cause I really need a drink."

I waved at Sasha distractedly. "Go. I'll text you when I'm on my way to the bar."

Sasha left, shutting the door behind her.

I moved into the living room, watching the girl carefully. Her hands wrung together as she perched on the edge of my sofa.

"So..." I said curiously, heading across the room and leaning against the wall.

Her eyes rose and met mine. "So... you were right. My boyfriend is a psycho drunk, and I don't know where else to go."

I nodded. "Right... you don't have family or anything you can go to for this instead of some stranger you met in a bar?"

"No, my family live in another state. I moved here with Hugo a couple of weeks ago."

She seemed to shrink as she spoke, each moment causing her to diminish in confidence and size.

"No friends?"

"No."

Jesus christ, this girl...

I was about to open my mouth to speak when she blurted out, "Can I stay here? Just for tonight, I won't be a bother. I'll be gone in the morning when I can catch the bus back to my parent's."

I stayed silent for a moment, regarding her. I wouldn't usually let random people into my house to stay, let alone some random girl I protected in a bar one time, but there was something strange about this girl. I felt protective of her, like I owed her something. I looked after her at the bar, and it was now on me to make sure she was okay, and that she behaved herself.

I pinched my fingers between my eyes, sighing. "Okay, fine. You can stay."

She jumped up, rushing towards me and pulled me into a tight hug. "Thank you!" she said happily.

When she pulled away, her face was flushed that deep red again, and she had a little smile on her face. I cleared my throat awkwardly, trying to ignore the fact that her body pressed against mine felt... good.

"Yeah, well, anyway," I cleared my throat again. "You can stay in my room. I'll just sleep out here."

She nodded, evidently pleased with the arrangement. "I'm Violet."

"Joel," I answered.

Pulling out my phone, I sent a quick text to Sasha:

Wont make it. Somethings come up. Text you tomorrow.

My phone buzzed a moment later with a response:

asshole! Hope ur allg

"You hungry?" I asked after a moment, unsure of what to do now.

Violet shook her head, her auburn hair falling out of the bun it was precariously tied in. She had taken off her coat now and had sat it next to her on the sofa. She wore a t-shirt tucked into her jeans of some obscure band I hadn't heard of.

"I'll have a drink if you've got one," Violet said, her smile slightly shy.

After fixing us drinks -- me, a whiskey, and her a vodka orange juice -- we sat down on opposite couches. She folded her legs underneath her and sipped her drink awkwardly.

"You wanna tell me what happened with your boyfriend?"

"Ex-boyfriend," she answered quickly. "And not really. But I think I owe you that much, considering you're letting me stay in your house."

"I'd say that's right," I answered.

"When we got home from the bar last week, he went pretty crazy. Talking about how I was fucking other people. How I was cheating on him with you." She blushed at this comment. "I told him it wasn't true, obviously, but he wasn't having it. Then he just kept drinking every night and becoming obsessed with the idea I was cheating on him. When he smashed my laptop, saying I was messaging men online, I knew I needed to leave."

"That's when you came here," I said quietly, taking a swig of my drink.

"Yeah, that's when I came here. I figured..." She paused for a moment, looking down into her drink. "I figured you protected me before, so I may as well try my luck and see if you'll do it again."

She was right about that. I'd never had kids, nor did I want any, but something about her... it wasn't some parental urge to look after her... it was something else that I wasn't quite sure of yet.

I stood up and moved to the sliding door leading out to my porch, pulling a packet of smokes out of my pocket.

"I know it's bad for you, but I haven't been able to quit just yet. Hope you don't mind me smokin'," I said as I stood in the doorway and lit one up. "You warm enough? Need anything?"

With a smooth motion, Violet stood and joined me on the porch. "No, but I'll take one of those, if you're offering?"

I grunted, holding the pack out for her to take one. She pulled one out and placed it in between her lips. I couldn't help but enjoy the sight of her pillowy lips holding onto the cigarette. They were all plump and soft looking.

"You gonna help me with a light or keep staring?"

I grunted again, quickly pulling my lighter out and handing it to her. "Sorry," I said, pulling on a drag of the smoke. "You know you really shouldn't make a habit out of these things."

She puffed out a plume of smoke, rolling her eyes. "Thanks, Dad. I'll keep that in mind. Don't do what you do."

I rolled my eyes back at her. "You don't exactly look like the type to smoke, Violet."

"Yeah well, breaking up with your psycho boyfriend, staying in a house with an attractive older man... sometimes the moment calls for one."

I felt heat rising in my cheeks at the compliment but decided not to mention it. "Guess you aren't so innocent as you make out to be," I said, eyeing her carefully. "You a wild child?"

That familiar blush began to rise in her cheeks as she looked out at the porch. She sucked on the cigarette again. "Depends," she finally answered. "You like 'em wild, Joel?"

Jesus. How did my night end up here? I thought. There must be something wrong with this girl, for her to be so shameless. Yet, I couldn't help the small smile that crept across my lips.

"Depends," I repeated her phrasing. "I think wild can be a good thing. Gettin' into trouble sometimes..."

Violet stubbed out the smoke under her foot. She wrapped her arms around herself and sighed. "To tell you the truth, I'm a little more innocent than I let on," she chuckled dryly. "I like to pretend I'm this wild child, when really, I like it when someone else takes the role of 'wild'. I'm more of a follower, if you get my drift."

I frowned at her, finishing my own cigarette. "You don't seem like a follower," I said as I gestured for us to move back inside to the warmth.

I shut the door behind us, and we both returned to the living room except now we were on the same couch, facing each other. She wrapped her hand around her drink and took another sip.

"Yeah, well, I don't let many people see that side of me," she said, watching me carefully. "Truth is, I like to be told what to do. Not to make the decisions."

I raised an eyebrow at this. I felt like I were teetering on the edge of something explicit here. Her eyes watch me coolly, dark pupils amongst a mess of auburn hair.

Stop, I admonished myself internally. She's come to you for help. You'd be taking advantage by turning this into something sexual. Just because she's started talking about being told what to do, doesn't mean it's inherently sexual. Get your shit together -- oh fuck it.

"You must want a man to take charge, then huh?" I say quietly. "You like men in positions of authority?"

Her quick response told me all I needed to know. "If that's what you wanna call it, Joel, then yeah... I like men with authority... power... Are you a man with power?"

She leaned into me, one hand wrapped around her glass, the other perched in the space between us on the soft leather of the couch. I could smell oranges on her breath. And god dammit, I could feel myself leaning in to her. It's like she was a blackhole, sucking me into her orbit.

"You already know the answer to that, don't you?" I said, my voice deathly quiet. "You saw how I dealt with your ex-boyfriend. What does that tell you?"

And now we were so close that I could see the pores on her skin. I could hear the shaking in her breath. I could damn near taste those oranges on her breath and god did I want to taste them.

"I don't know, Joel. I think you gotta prove how powerful you are before I decide anything." She leaned in close and for a moment I thought she was going to kiss me, but instead she moved her lips to my ear. "Are you gonna show me how powerful you are, Daddy?"

I paused, my eyes closing slightly at the touch of her lips on my skin. It felt like electricity was humming through my body and my breath was coming out heavy. My mind was racing. Did she just call me... Daddy?

I watched in eerie slowness as she pulled away from my ear to watch me carefully under her eyelashes. Her little tongue, wet and red, flicked out to lick her pillowy lips and she smirked with a deviousness that told me she knew exactly what she was doing to me.

"You want me to prove it?" I said, and my hand slowly moved up to her throat, pressing into her soft, cool skin.

Violet sucked in a breath at my touch, her eyes fluttering closed then open again. She let out a soft little whimper and that's when I knew it was all over.

I pressed my lips hard into hers, not letting go of her throat. I could hear her whimpering like a little puppy under my touch as I pushed my tongue into her mouth, my hand tightening its grip. Her saliva mingled with mine, so our lips became wet and sticky. Then I pulled away, still holding her throat.

"That proof enough for you?" I almost spit this at her as I let go of her throat, shoving her slightly. She fell backwards onto the couch.

I couldn't help the edge of anger that had seeped into me -- she knew what she was doing when she came here. She wanted this to happen. Jesus, I bet she never even broke up with her boyfriend. Well, if she wants this, I'll give it to her.

"I'd say that's proof," she said, and her voice was almost choking as it tried to suck back in breath. Her cheeks were flushed as she watched me. "Might need a bit more evidence, though."

I stood, exhaling roughly. I flexed my hands by my sides. What the fuck is going on? I've had girlfriends like this before -- where everything feels like some kind of power play. Where the sexual tension isn't normal, it's some kind of battle for dominance. My ex-girlfriend Lily was of this ilk -- choosing to bait me into some kind of angry response so we ended up in long sessions of punishment and play. I wasn't complaining at the time; hell, I enjoyed watching her submit and turn into a desperate drooling mess as she vied for my attention. It was good at the time, but afterwards I was always left with a feeling of guilt, like a form of "post-nut-clarity" multiplied by one hundred. I didn't like who I became when I got swept up in that madness. I wasn't sure this was what Violet was trying to instigate here, but it sure felt familiar.

"What are you doing?" I shot at her. I was standing over her as she sat crossed legged on the couch.

She leaned so her back hit the back of the couch, her little face looking up at me. She seemed to be on the verge of saying something. Her mouth pouted, as though she were tasting her words before she spoke. Then she laughed. "I'm just joking around, Joel. Jeez, does being old mean you can't take a joke anymore?"

"I think maybe it's time you head to bed," I instructed, turning away from her to grab my drink. I swallowed the last mouthful of the whiskey; it burned going down.

"Fine," she said with a little sigh. "Can I have a shower, at least?"

I nodded and gestured for her to follow.

I showed her down the hall to the bathroom where I flicked on the light. I grabbed a clean towel from the hallway cupboard and handed it to her. My eyes avoided hers. I was sure if I looked at her, my conflicted feelings about her would be revealed, like she had some superhuman ability to read minds.

"Will you sit in the bathroom and talk to me while I shower? I'm still a little shaken up from what happened with Hugo..." she said softly. I finally met her gaze, and she had that cute puppy dog stare on her. "I could do with your... protection again."

My face burned, but I was sure under the dim lighting of the hallway that she couldn't see it. Finally, I sighed and nodded. "Yeah sure, but don't try anything."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She immediately started to pull off her shirt and before I had time to look away, I saw the milky skin of her stomach leading up to her breasts, which were covered in some kind of blue lace. I turned away, mumbling something incoherent. Then a moment later, I heard the water start running and her footsteps entering the shower.

I moved into the bathroom and sat on the toilet with the lid closed. I tried to keep my eyes off her, but I couldn't help but catch a glance of her through the shower glass, which was steadily collecting steam.

Her small body was hazy through the glass, but I could still see her pert little breasts, the slightly darker colour of puffy nipples. The curve of her legs, and that little V of her crotch that hid her pussy. I licked my lips, wondering if she wanted me to join her; if she wanted me to help her lather up with soap. Maybe it was a job only I could do.

Her hands, now covered in shower gel, moved across her body, lathering her skin up with suds. "You could do with a shower too," she said suddenly. "No offense."