The Bartender Ch. 04

Roger's balls tightened as he joined in with his daughter's orgasm, cumming inside of her at the idea of how much he hated cumming inside of her. Somehow, she'd stumbled upon the key. He hated fucking her...but he loved being forced to do things he hated.

Looking up at his wife, Roger gulped at the look of fury on her face. He pulled out of his daughter and left as quickly as possible. He enjoyed pain, he enjoyed suffering, he enjoyed torture...but even he didn't want to be there for what was going to come next.

That day, Trisha did everything she could to try to break her daughter. For the first time, she drew blood. For the first time, she whipped until her arm could whip no more. For the first time, she spent an entire five hours with her daughter without either of them cumming.

She wanted to show her daughter what happened when she tried to outsmart her mother. She wanted to show her daughter what happened when she tried to beat her at her own game. But more than anything, she wanted to destroy her daughter, to reduce her into a quivering mess who would never try to mess with mommy again.

But finally, she had to admit defeat. Perhaps because Julia knew she had won, perhaps her morning fuck had been so good she was immune to Trisha's efforts, or perhaps just because Julia's brain wasn't big enough to be susceptible to pain...at the end of it, when Trisha was too exhausted to move, Julia still had that stupid, vacant little smile on her face.

Over the next few weeks, though Trisha agreed to help Julia out, the fury never left her eyes. She helped Julia work out, as the tiny girl added muscle to her lithe body; partially so that she could more easily inflict pain on her whimpering father's back, before forcing him to fuck her, but also so that she could look more like the men that she knew that he craved.

Her packages arrived in the mail, but while Trisha knew exactly where to find sexy leather, Julia had just typed in "corsett" into google, and bought the first few that had come up - as a result, where Trisha's were form-fitting and spiked, Julia's were silky, frilly affairs, and her almost-complete lack of tits caused them to sit strangely on her body.

It hadn't been hard for Trisha to trick the simple-minded teen into getting implants to ensure that they'd fit - Julia had wanted to upgrade her small B's to a C, but Trisha managed to talk her into D-cups, bordering on double-D. On the girl's thin frame, they looked huge, and completely dispelled any chance of Roger visualising her as a man, but Julia seemed quite happy with them nonetheless.

Her new, more muscular frame; the huge fake tits; her new wardrobe of black; her severe make-up...it resulted in Julia strongly resembling her lesbian bitch-domme mother, but a smaller, more feminine version (though not, of course, nearly as feminine as Roger.)

On the rare occasion that the two went out together, they attracted stares, Trisha's glare the only thing stopping them from being constantly hit on. But though Julia could never provide Roger with the pain that Trisha did, the young girl was getting alarming close to cutting her mother out entirely, depriving her of her pet man and her young, sexy daughter.

###

"...and I know you're to blame," Trisha said, her angry eyes burning into Kent's as Julia tried to mimic her mother, and threw a peanut into her father's ear. "You came up with this plan in the first place. You told her what to say, how to act...and all to get back to me. All because I wouldn't fuck you."

Kent's face remained passive as the woman softly ranted at him. The deal, he had to admit, had been his idea - agreeing to allow Trisha whatever she wanted, in return for time with Roger - but everything else stemmed straight from Julia's head. Even with a reduced IQ, she was smarter than anyone expected.

"So...fine."

He thought he'd been around long enough that there was nothing left to startle him, but Kent couldn't hide his surprise at Trisha's words.

"Stop what you've started," Trisha specified, "and I'll fuck you. Just once. And I won't enjoy it. But I don't want to lose her. I...I don't want to lose my daughter to my husband."

In all his years of lending an ear to his patrons, Kent had never before been at a loss for words, but it was a good thirty seconds before the large man's mouth opened in response. The offer had thrown him for a loop, but his line of work had meant that it had been years since someone had offered him sex without him setting it up, and curiousity took him the rest of the way.

"Okay," he said simply, and Trisha nodded, and reluctantly began taking off her clothes.

"I suppose you'll want to see everything," she said, contempt dripping from every word that came out of her mouth. "Typical fucking man. Julia, turn away. I don't...I don't want you to see your mother like this. Roger, get me the lube."

It was fast (Kent hadn't had a customer all day) and Trisha obviously hated every second of it. After they were done, he did as he promised, and had a quick word with Julia ("Do you think," he asked, "that your love for your father is what makes you want to be just like him?") and as the family left, was surprised at how satisfied he felt.

As he wiped down the sink, he wondered if he was growing lazy. Perhaps there was something to be said for stepping back and letting things take their course. Perhaps he'd enjoyed the woman because he hadn't seen it coming - surprise, he'd once heard, was the spice of life, and his life may just be too tightly controlled.

Perhaps it was time to hang up his towel, live life as it came, and see if he continued to get pleasure from simply letting people surprise him.

Kent looked up as the door opened, and at the sight of the pretty young teenage girl walking in, lost his train of thought.

"You," he drawled, pouring her a drink, "have got something on your mind..."

"Well..." the girl replied, strangely fascinated by the bartender's haircut, "I suppose I do..."