Scourges World Ch. 01

"Daddy?" Kelly whispered.

"What, honey?"

"What's wrong? You seem kind of sad today."

"It's nothing. Nothing for you to worry about," Jizzy said, giving the young woman sitting beside him a smile and stroking her soft brown hair.

Kelly smiled back, her firm round tits studded with huge, dark nipples straining her thin, sheer t-shirt. "Come on, Daddy. Stop pouting. What could a man like you be so down about, anyway? Just back from Paris, piles of fan mail waiting for you on your desk, royalty checks pouring in. And you're the most famous, best-loved author on Literotica!"

"I know, honey."

"What's the matter, then? Don't you like spending time with your little girl?"

Kelly stroked Jizzy's leg, up, down, gradually working her hand toward his inner thigh, rubbing closer and closer to his swelling bulge.

"Of course I do, Kelly. I'm just a little tired."

"Jet-lagged from your trip, huh?"

"That's probably it."

"And I bet it's hard," Kelly said, letting her thumb brush against the hard-on straining against his pants, "writing so many best-sellers and being president of Scourges World."

"It sure is honey. A lot of people don't appreciate all the hard work Daddy does to help make Literotica the wonderful site it's turned into since I became a member."

"Poor Daddy. I bet you could use a hug."

Kelly climbed up on Jizzy's lap, letting her short skirt ride up, exposing the crotch of her girlish cotton panties, and wrapped her arms around him.

"Come on, Daddy. Put your arms around me!"

Jizzy squeezed Kelly tight, and she ground her crotch against his groin.

"Oh, Daddy! That feels so nice!" She giggled like a little girl, even though she was about to turn thirty-two. "Daddy?" she whispered. "Is that what I think it is?"

It was. Jizzy's penis was painfully hard, trying to burrow through his jeans and drill a hole through Kelly's little white panties. Kelly rocked her hips, rubbing her swelling, hungry vulva against Jizzy's throbbing rod.

"Honey, what are you doing?"

"I'm hugging my Daddy!"

"Not that, Kelly."

"Oh, that! It feels good, doesn't it, Daddy?"

"Honey, you're my little girl. Daddies and daughters don't do those things."

"Why not, Daddy? We love each other, don't we?"

"Of course we do, honey."

"Doesn't it feel nice?"

"That's not the point, Kelly."

"Don't you think I'm pretty?"

"Of course I do."

"Look, Daddy."

Kelly lifted up her snug, thin baby-doll t-shirt and bared her tits, round and firm as two tennis balls.

"Look how hard my nipples are, Daddy, from rubbing against your chest."

Her dark nipples stuck out, big and hard as the tips of a man's thumbs. She grabbed a tit and teased Jizzy's lips with one stiff, rubbery nipple.

"Lick it Daddy!"

"Honey, it would be wrong. I changed your diapers when you were a baby. Kissed your boo-boos, took you trick-or-treating."

"I know that, Daddy. That's why I love you. That's why I want to feel you suck my nipple between your lips and lick. Please Daddy!"

Kelly started riding his lap, rubbing their swollen genitals together through their clothes, brushing her nipple along his lips until Jizzy groaned, grabbed her tit in one hand, one cheek of her bubble-butt in the other, and latched onto that nipple, sucking like a hungry little baby.

"Oh, Daddy! Oh! That feel soooo nice!" Kelly screamed, humping the stiffy between her spread thighs.

"Oh, God Kelly!"

Jizzy let go of the hard sphere of her tit with a slurp, dumped her onto the couch and frantically clawed open the fly of his jeans and grabbed his hard penis, aiming it at Kelly's mouth.

"Daddy?"

She wedged a straight arm against Jizzy's hip, holding him at bay.

"What, honey?" Jizzy asked in a frustrated voice.

"I was just wondering, um, I kind of need some money."

"Money?" Jizzy's cock started to soften in his fist.

"For books. For school, Daddy. If I don't get them tonight, I won't be prepared tomorrow. I just wanted to ask now, so I wouldn't forget. I know you want me to get good grades."

"Of course I do, honey." Jizzy's erection wilted to nothing. "It's just, uh, I haven't had time to go by the ATM since I got back from Paris, so I don't have any cash here right now."

Kelly's smile wilted as fast as Jizzy's hard-on had.

"No cash?"

"The school will take a check, won't it honey?"

"No, Daddy. It won't." The girlish sing-song was suddenly gone from Kelly's voice.

"Well, it can wait until tomorrow, can't it, honey? I can go to the ATM first thing in the morning, and you can get your books then."

"No, Daddy. It just won't work. I have to have them tonight. And you know I have to leave soon. You know I'm working the night shift at Starbucks. Remember, Daddy?"

"Please, honey. We can work something out."

"You seriously don't have any money?" Now Kelly sounded like a completely different person. A grown woman.

"I'm sorry, I..."

"What the fuck, Jizzy? That's so not cool! I came all the way over here, I did your stupid incest script. Fuck, I even let you slobber all over my tits. And you have nothing? I'm sure glad I didn't let you stick that pathetic excuse for a cock in my mouth."

Kelly sprang up from the couch, tugging her shirt down over her straining orbs.

"Kelly, please! We can work something out!" Jizzy begged.

"It's not Kelly, asshole. It's Marta. And no, we can't."

Jizzy's expression of desperate humility turned into a twitching scowl of impotent rage.

"Get out of here. I don't even know why they sent you. I asked for a skinny blond eighteen-year-old, and they send me a middle-aged Spic with fake tits! You don't look anything like my precious little Kelly! My Kelly is a beautiful young lady, not a trashy whore!"

Marta laughed. "Look, you poor, deluded little man. 'Kelly' doesn't exist. Better stick to your sad little stories, if you can't even scrape together fifty bucks for a blowjob."

Marta let the screen door slam shut behind her and left Scourges alone in the dim, dank trailer.

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By now, you might be wondering just how your humble narrator, moi, knows all about that unfortunate night in the life of poor Jizz R. Scourges. It's kind of a long story, but it's pretty funny, so hopefully you'll stick around.

Some of you may know me already from the Literotica forums. I know, some people don't even think I'm real. But you know, just because the boss made up that nonsense about $ales and royalty checks and trips to Paris doesn't mean I'm a blow-up doll or a figment of his imagination.

Of course, there were still few whoppers in the post he made me write about how we met. No, it wasn't on a nude beach (here's hoping I NEVER see him naked), and when he made me write that bit about how there's this mutual attraction and we both want to sleep together, well, I seriously had to toss back about ten shots of tequila to stop gagging long enough to type that one out.

The truth is, I'm his niece. Uncle Jizzy is Mom's brother, and when I dropped out of high school my senior year and couldn't find a job, "working" for Uncle Jizzy was my mom's idea of a fitting punishment. I know, the irony, the irony. If Mom knew the kinds of stories Uncle Jizzy wrote, not only would I not have to work for him anymore, but she'd probably move us to another state to be sure he'd keep his horny little paws off of me.

And I'd tell, too, except I realized pretty fast that being on the inside at Scourges World has some advantages for a girl like me. Like getting to study a genuine crazy person up-close and personal, for example! I guess the writing bug runs in the Scourges genes. I've always wanted to be an author, and when I got a load of what Uncle Jizzy was up to, I knew I had the main character for my first story.

So I put up with Uncle Jizzy's...peculiarities. But I shouldn't blab everything out here. Gotta save something for the story, right?

So, where was I? Oh yeah, Uncle Jizzy, Scourges was standing there in his trailer, oblivious to the mildew vapors wafting up from the moldering carpet under the leak in the roof, his limp dick still drooping from his open fly. He seemed to have forgotten about the web cam he'd set up, hoping to catch his fifty-dollar blowjob on video to sell to some amateur porn distrubutor to make a few bucks to pay that month's rent on his space in the trailer park. Plunking down on the ratty, stained sofa, Scourges locked his eyes on his computer monitor, ogling rotating screenshots from his favorite 'Barley Legal' sites while he coaxed a half-hearted spurt of jism from his disappointed cock. His own calloused hand was a poor substitute for Kelly's thick lips, her long, pink tongue, her hot wet mouth, for a sloppy, sticky, slurping blowjob.

And then the web cam caught Scourges doing what he so often does when he's down in the dumps about something. He sat down at the computer, and started writing. Fast and furious his two index fingers hunted and pecked over the keyboard. Second by second, the expression of of hopelessness and misery changed, the little muscles in his eyes, at the corners of his mouth contracted until his face was the picture of complacence and self-satisfaction. Fulfillment, even.

Had he just dashed off a first outline for a new story idea? Had a paragraph of perfect prose just sprung from his fingertips, completing yet another Scourges best-seller? No.

A moment later, the laser printer screeched to life. Scourges leaned forward in his chair and, leveraging his weight against the edge of the kitchen table that did double-duty as a desk, pushed himself up. He wasn't getting any younger, and his sedentary existence had been taking its toll for many years, now. Still, he was jubilant as he plucked the piece of paper from the printer, read through the words in black and yellow and red and blue still drying on the page. He hobbled, still stiff from his stint at the computer, to the bedroom, and returned with a small, metal picture frame. When he'd sealed the piece of paper behind the sheet of glass, he hung the frame on the wall. His face lit up with pride, he stood back, crossed his arms over his chest, and read:

Dear Mr. Scourges,

I was thrilled when you posted you're most resent story. We all where. By we I mean all seven hundred and fourty-2 members of the Little Rock Ladies' Erotic Literature Aficionados Club.

Not only are you the best-loved and most famous author on Literotica, but this is the best story I've every read. All the ladys in the club agree.

But we were dismayed by some of the rude and ugly feedback we saw there, to, Jizzy. I'll tell you Mr. Scourges, everyone in our neck of the country was shocked. Why were they so mean?

They've tried to ruin it Jizz. Ruin the glory of Scourges World for not just you but four you're devoted fans everywhere. But you no and we know its just jealousy.

Don't let them get you down Jizz, we all still love you,

Christie Plowright (and all seven hundred and fourty-2 of your Little Rock fans) XOXOXO

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To be continued.