‘Do you think she’s alright?’ My wife was looking anxiously after our daughter, who had just gone straight back up to her room after lunch, yet again.
‘I know what you mean,’ I replied, ‘she has changed. Would she talk to you, do you think?’
‘I’ve tried,’ Sally was looking worried, ‘she just says no she’s OK. But she’s gone so quiet. What about you having a try?’
I went up and knocked on the door. There was no answer. I knocked again, waited a moment, then opened it anyway. Yvonne was thirteen, at a tricky time in her development; it wouldn’t do to let her shut us out too much, whatever she felt like.
I made no more headway than my wife, though: Yvonne just sat on the edge of her bed hardly looking at me; pale, slender and beautiful, her face half hidden in her long wavy hair. ‘It’s OK dad, I just need some space.’
I leaned over and gave her shoulders a squeeze. She didn’t look up for a kiss so I retired, defeated.
I didn’t want to worry Sally, but it did seem to me the change had started not long after we’d taken on the housekeeper a couple of months before. Sally had seen a job and gone back to work, finally, and the house is quite large, so we’d advertised a room with car in exchange for the main housework. The house had a granny bedsit that the previous owner had used for an aged parent; it was ideal.
It had worked out well. We’d taken on a very nice young woman called Becky, who was twenty-two and studying for a higher degree by research. She was splitting her time between our housework and her research, a lot of which she did in her room. She was a good-looking girl with a winning smile, and we’d taken to her at once.
She was an athlete, playing a lot of different sports, and one of the things we’d hoped was that she’d encourage Yvonne to do some sports and build up a bit of muscle and fitness. Yvonne was pretty thin. It had worked out, with Becky taking her swimming and to some gym activities that we weren’t too clear about but had clearly given Yvonne’s body some tone. She stood better and her shoulders were bigger and straighter.
But recently that improvement had been overshadowed by a change in Yvonne’s attitude, which I had just tried and failed to get to the bottom of.
Sally and I kept on trying to talk to her, but making no progress. Then a week later things came to a head, when I got home unexpectedly at lunchtime one day. Nobody seemed to be in, to start with.
Then I heard sounds coming from Becky’s flat at the end of the house. There was something about the sounds.
I went over to the connecting door and listened at it. The sound was gasping - the rhythmic gasping that meant sex. Then I heard a voice speak: ‘no more Becky, please, that’s three times!’ It was Yvonne!
I tried the door, but found it locked. I banged on it, then hardly waiting for a response I charged it with a shoulder. The lock wasn’t much and it burst off the frame straight away.
I staggered into the room, regaining my balance. It took a couple of seconds to register what my eyes were seeing: Yvonne’s slender body was tied to the bed, spreadeagle and naked. Her face was a mask of desperation.
Lying partly on her was Becky, also naked, just pulling her hand off a vibrator that was deep in Yvonne’s pussy.
I was instantly in a rage. A deep, total rage. Becky had been raping my lovely, delicate daughter. Jesus Christ.
I was round the bed in an instant, grabbing Becky as she was getting up. She was gabbling apologies. I gripped the back of her neck and pushed her down on the edge of the bed. I looked at Yvonne.
I couldn’t help noticing her body. She had a definite bush, not thick but there, and neatly plucked into shape. Her thighs had put on muscle since I’d last seen them, and flowed perfectly into her pelvis; above that was a very small waist, then pert tits that were sticking up even on her back. Nice shoulders and her long, slender neck. My gaze took in all this in a second, then arrived at her face: a bit sweaty now but so beautiful, framed by her long light-brown hair, her big green eyes full of fear, gratitude, shame, all mixed in together.
I brought my attention back to Becky. The bitch. What was I going to do with her? Well for a start, she wasn’t going anywhere. I looked around the room. Next to me was Yvonne’s ankle, tied with a soft pink rope. It looked purpose-made for bondage. The bitch. With one hand I undid it and Yvonne quickly closed her legs. I grabbed Becky’s arms, pulled them behind her back and tied them with the rope.
I lifted her, turned her, and pushed her onto the bed next to Yvonne, on her back. ‘What do you think you were doing?’ I raged at her.
‘I’m sorry!’ she said, ‘I couldn’t resist. I tried. She didn’t want to do anything. I just...’
‘Don’t you realise?’ I shouted, ‘what it’s like to be raped? Having all your control and dignity taken away? Being used for someone’s pleasure?’
‘I’m sorry,’ she wailed, looking up at me, ‘she’s just so gorgeous. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. In her swimming costume and her leotard. In the showers. Her face. I was lonely, I didn’t know anyone here, but she didn’t want to do anything with me, touch me or anything.’
‘Well you can’t just rape people because you’re lonely!’ I yelled. ‘Do you think just because you’re lonely and stronger than someone you can just enslave them?’
‘I know, I know!’ she yelped, ‘It’s me as well, it’s wrong, I know, I shouldn’t have. I just wanted to see her cum. Make her cum. I thought once she’d cum with me then it would be different.’
‘But it wasn’t different was it?’ I was still shouting, but a bit less loudly.
‘No, no, it wasn’t, but once I started I got off on it. I’m sorry. I just got off on making her cum, even though she didn’t want to. I forced her to cum, then I got myself off, stroking her and looking at her. It was wrong. But I couldn’t help myself. She looks so fantastic when she’s sexed up, and when she’s cumming, God, I couldn’t stop.’
I had to admit was finding it hard to help myself, as well. I was holding down a naked girl, right next to another naked girl.
In the middle of my rage and trying to work out what I ought to do about the situation, I couldn’t help noticing that Becky’s body was very gorgeous. Medium height, medium build, with very feminine proportions but carrying quite a bit of muscle. Good shoulders, pert tits, small waist, nice hips. Slight all-over tan. Short blonde hair, but thick, and blue-grey eyes in a very pretty face. Shaved pussy.
It all came disgracefully together.
‘Right!’ I was still shouting, ‘I’ll show you what it’s like shall I? You raping bitch! You can see what it’s like!’
I stood up and started tearing off my shirt.
‘Daddy!’ Yvonne was appalled, ‘no, no, don’t! Untie me! And get this vibrator out of me!’ The vibrator was still running.
I had to admit, afterwards, that I allowed my mind to play tricks on me. I eased the vibrator out of Yvonne and turned it off. ‘Just a minute, darling,’ I said, more quietly now, ‘this is what she deserves and this is what you need, to see it’s just bullying. Watch, you’ll see. It wasn’t your fault, you’ll see you don’t need to feel bad, it was just a bigger person doing something you couldn’t help.’
Becky was trying to get up, finding it difficult with her hands tied behind her back. I pushed her back down, pulled my shoes and socks off, pushed her down again, and took off my trousers and briefs. I pushed Becky down again and got on the bed next to her, glad we’d put a big bed in here so there was room next to Yvonne even tied in the middle as she was. We just had to be a bit further down the bed, below her spread arm.
I pinned Becky by her neck and forced my knee between her legs. With that start I grabbed one knee, then slid my hand down to her ankle and forced it up and out. I realised my cock had gone rock hard. She was strong, kicking wildly, but I just held on till she tired and then did the same with the other leg. We both knew what was going to happen next.
I pushed her legs back and lowered my head towards her pussy. She bucked upwards, but it just brought her doom that much closer. I opened my mouth over her clit and followed it as her pelvis sank back down. I pushed her clit out with my tongue and then closed my lips over it. I was gratified to hear a despairing gasp as I started working her over.
I moved my mouth down to her pussy and pushed my tongue in. She was wet already, from raping Yvonne I daresay. Revenge was as sweet as her now reluctant pussy juice.
For a couple of minutes I teased her with my mouth, teeth and tongue, forcing arousal on her. I could hear her gasping and groaning, saying ‘sorry’ over and over again. Then the words stopped and she was just grunting and panting.
I lifted my head off and slid up, pulling her knees up with me. I’m not tall and my face was right over hers as I lined my big, throbbing cock up with her defenceless pussy. I moved my pelvis around to rub my cockhead over her glistening wet labia.
‘So,’ I barked at her, ‘you’re the helpless one now aren’t you? What do you think? Is it OK for me to rape you now, because I’m stronger than you and I happen to feel like it?’
‘No! I’m sorry,’ Becky was almost in tears, ‘I was wrong, don’t fuck me, please!’
‘You don’t have any control now do you?’ I continued my barracking, ‘can you feel your dignity being ripped away?’ As I said that I pushed and my cockhead slid into her pussy.
‘Noooo!’ she wailed but I wasn’t to be denied vengeance for Yvonne’s ravishment. Repeated ravishment, I reminded myself. I started pumping and my big cock slid in, an inch at a time, until all eight were buried in the helpless girl. It felt fantastic.
I started to fuck her, slowly. At first I left plenty of cock in her each stroke, in case her struggles should manage to get it to slip out, but gradually the fight went out of her and her pelvis stopped thrashing around. I increased the length of my stroke, fucking her with an irregular rhythm that would keep her aroused but not let her cum. She was going to cum when I made her cum, and not before. She was gasping with each stroke already.
I looked up at Yvonne. ‘You see, darling, anyone can get raped. It’s not you. OK? Can you see now?’ I managed a smile through my growing sex haze.
‘You shouldn’t, Daddy,’ Yvonne was looking shocked. More shocked, but less desperate and distressed.
But I was way past the point of no return anyway. I fucked and fucked, keeping Becky close to the edge for minute after minute, dragging it out. She felt fabulous, her pussy tight and creamy, her gorgeous young body starting to writhe with arousal instead of resistance. I gazed down at her, my eyes roving over her delicious smooth skin, her pert tits now flushed and her nipples sticking up, dark pink. I looked into her eyes, her pupils huge and angry.
‘You bastard,’ she spat, ‘I hate you!’
‘You see?’ I lectured her as I kept fucking, ‘this is what it’s like to be forced. You’re going to cum soon, when I decide. Orgasm round my big cock and suck my sperm into your pussy, deep into your body. When I want.’
‘Nooo,’ she cried, ‘don’t cum in me, I’m not on anything.’
‘We’ll get you a morning after pill,’ I said, ‘it’s not a problem.’
‘You bastard,’ she repeated. She could only just speak now, in between the gasping breaths, irregular and in time with my pistoning fuck strokes. It had been about twenty minutes, I reckoned. It was time.
‘You’re going to cum now,’ I informed my gorgeous victim, ‘ready?’ I changed to a rhythmic stroke, steady, a long stroke from almost out of her pussy to a deep press right into her, held for half a second, a bump onto her vulva each time. It didn’t take long. One, two, three, four...after twelve strokes I could feel her start.
Her strong young pussy went grippy and pulsating round my cock, an amazing vibration, and she surged up into me, crying ‘Arrrggghh’ as her pelvis lifting off the bed to meet my big, spurting cock that was pumping into her, squirt after squirt of my desperately dreaded sperm.
God, it was fantastic. I’d never had a fuck like it. She was gorgeous and, like it or not, her body was highly sexed. Strong and highly sexed. What a cum. Gradually I slowed to a stop, the last spasms fading away, and propped myself on my arms over her.
‘You total fucking bastard,’ she was breathing hard, and angry.
‘I know,’ I smiled and kissed her forehead, my rage gone, ‘but we’re even now, what do you think Vonnie?’
‘Yes Daddy.’ Yvonne was looking a lot better, I thought.