The Predicament

You told me to stay home. You told me to keep the doors locked. You told me not to walk around in my little skirts with the windows open.

I told you I am big. I told you I need to feel the sun on my skin. I told you I am always careful.

I told you to let me go. You laughed. It's a scary laugh as I wake up on my blanket in the sun, with you kneeling beside me. Knife to my throat, I feel the cold hard blade dragging across my skin. Not cutting, not yet. Not if I do as you say, you tell me. The knife is a very effective way to control me, fear paralyzing me, making it impossible for me to struggle.

Your other hand slides down my back, gently caressing. If I didn't know you, I'd think you wanted to make me feel good. The knife makes me think you want to feel good, and you will. No matter what I say.

You tell me that you have been watching, and waiting. You've seen my play with my pussy when I thought I was all alone. You've seen that I caress my pussy lips, sliding a finger inside. Teasing, it feels good, but not satisfying. Like candy, it's enjoyable, but not satiating.

Today, today I will learn what it's like to get fucked. To cum. What a man feels like when he unloads inside of me. He tells me that it doesn't have to hurt, but it will because that makes him happy.

Roughly rolled over he pushes himself on top of me. His strong legs spread mine. He runs his knife down the front of my shirt. Popping the buttons as he goes. Exposing me and making me more accessible to his torments.

The knife drawing light lines across my breasts, scratching and making them welt up. The blade circles my nipple, then pokes until a single drop of blood rises to the surface. He kisses it away, sighing with pleasure. My nipples harden, I get wetter, but I'm not enjoying this. I'm not.

His rough hand cup my pussy, two strong fingers slide under my panties and inside of me without resistance. I'm so wet. So embarrassed that my body is liking this. That laugh again. The laugh that makes me want to curl up and hide.

"You little slut. You want this don't you?". Before I can answer he starts thursting. Deep, hard and fast. His thumb playing with my clit. Before I can tell him to stop I'm cumming. Soaking his hand, his arm, his clothes.

The laughter stops. His soaked hand slapping me across the face. "You got me messy, dirty little slut."

Shoving his fingers in my mouth to be cleaned, reaching for the back of my throat. I'm choking. My throat spasms around his fingers as I try to breathe. My eyes water and I feel like I'm going to puke.

"Too much little one? Don't worry, you will get lots of practice."I will teach you to be the best little cocksucker. I have so much to teach you, starting today." He kisses away my tears, the thoughtfulness confusing me.

My pussy so soaked, he slides his cock into me. It's big. I'm small. It hurts as it stretches me. Burning as I adjust to his size. His fingers play with my puffy pussy lips, distracting me and making me feel good.

His mouth takes over mine. His tongue tasting then thrusting. My body now his to do with as he likes. As he wants. As he will. Biting my lips and kissing his way to my throat. Biting there too.

The sensations overwhelm me. I rise up to meet his thrusts. To feel more.

"I hate you," I whimper. "You can't do this. I'm a good girl."

He slows, gently kissing me. "This is what good girls do silly. Good girls make their Daddy feel good."

"Daddy?? My Daddy?"

"Of course little one, you wouldn't be in this predicament if you could take care of yourself would you?"

I want to argue with you. I want to tell you how wrong you are. Instead I moan and concentrate on the feeling of your cock sliding in and out of me. My body so sensitive and feeling my pussy clamp around you, cumming. Finally cumming. I can't think. I can't breathe. With my release has come exhausted compliance.

You pull out of my pussy. Cock returning to my mouth. I taste my cum. Holding my head you fuck my face cumming at the back of my throat. I have no choice but to swallow.

"Clean me up little one, it's time to go home."

"Home? I am home."

"Not anymore. You are coming to live with me."