Bruce Flores - Daddy_s plaything

"Hi, baby," he muttered, flopped down on the couch and Sherry sat down beside him. "Oh," he said, glancing down at his hard-on, "pardon my morning erection. I always have one when I first wake up." Then, squinting, he stared at the big clock across the room. "Morning, hell," he said. "Jesus, how long did I sleep? It's almost two o'clock."

"I'm sorry for waking you, Tony," Sherry said, "but I had to talk to somebody. I-I didn't know what else to do."

Tony seemed wide awake now. "What's wrong, Sherry? You seem upset."

"I hate to bother you with my personal problems, Tony, but I am upset and I didn't know who else to turn to. I think my father is trying to cheat me out of-of everything." She burst into tears then and stared at the savings books and bonds in her hands. Tony put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. "Don't cry, honey," he said. "Sure, you can tell me anything. What's that you've got?"

"These are my father's savings books, his checkbook, stocks and bonds. I just found them by accident. There's an awful lot of money here, Tony, and-and it's all in his name. For years Daddy has told me that he was saving my money and investing it for me – that it was in my name for my future – and my name isn't on anything. I have an awful feeling that something's wrong. Do you think I'm crazy?"

Tony's eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't put anything past that son of a bitch," he said. "If he told you he was putting money in your name, he certainly should have done it. At least in joint accounts with both of your names on them. And he never mentioned anything about separate accounts with only his name on them?"

Sherry shook her head.

Tony thought for a minute. "I'll tell you one thing," he said. "I'd hold on to the things you have and I'd see a lawyer quick. Whenever there's any problem like this, banks and companies will freeze all withdrawals until matters are settled. I know because it happened to a friend of mine. A lawyer can protect your interests, Sherry."

"But who shall I see and what will I tell Daddy?"

"Fuck Daddy!" Tony said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "For now, leave these things here with me where they'll be safe. There is somebody I can call in Los Angeles. My agent's friend, Bruce Morris. He's a lawyer." Tony picked up the phone then and made a long distance all to Los Angeles. A moment later he was talking to Bruce Morris, explaining the situation. "I don't care how much it costs," Tony said. "I'll pay for it. Okay, I'll tell her. Tomorrow morning here at the Alpine? Fine. Come right to my room. I'll see you then," Tony said and hung up. "We're lucky," Tony said to Sherry. "He's not tied up for a few days. He wants to fly up in the morning and see those papers and things you've got. Also, he says to keep them from your father – no matter what. If your father asks you where these things are, say you don't know. Lie to him. Anything. But don't let him know anything until you've talked to Bruce."

Sherry hugged Tony, throwing her arms gratefully around his neck. "Oh, Tony, you're wonderful. I-I don't know what I'd have done without you, darling. Thank you… thank you…"

"That's all right, baby. There may be some mistake, some explanation, but we're doing the right thing. Now don't worry anymore. Promise?"

Sherry nodded. "Promise."

"Where's your father now?"

"I don't know. I left him with a girl named Sheila Whitcomb at the hotel a little while ago. They're probably still around the hotel."

"Okay, let's go over there and pretend that nothing's happened. Maybe he won't even notice the missing papers until after Bruce has had a chance to look them over tomorrow. But if he does ask you anything remember to play dumb. Understand?"

Sherry said that she understood. Tony dressed then and they went downstairs to look for Victor Redgrave and Sheila. They didn't seem to be anywhere and, finally, Sherry inquired at the hotel desk if the clerk had seen her father.

"Yes, Miss Trent," the young man said. "As a matter of fact I noticed your father with a young lady about ten minutes ago. They took the elevator." Sherry asked the room number of the Whitcombs and learned that it was 416. "Thank you," she said.

"Not at all, Miss Trent," the man said. "Say, I wonder if you would sing My Cheatin' Heart tonight. It's my favorite. I hate to ask but…"

"Certainly," Sherry said. "I'd be delighted to. It's a promise."

They left the delighted clerk behind and stood in the casino. "Your father doesn't waste any time, does he?" Tony said sarcastically. "The dirty ol' man is probably fucking that girl this minute."

Sherry just stared straight ahead. "I wouldn't be surprised," she said. "Well, I don't suppose we should interrupt them. I don't really think they're doing anything, though."

Tony gave a laugh that wasn't a laugh. "You want to bet. Come on. We don't have anything to do anyway. Let's go up and say hello."

Sherry hesitated, then remembering all the years that her father had lied to her and his jealousy over Tony, she suddenly said, "Okay, let's go."

They took the elevator to the fourth floor and went down to room 416. Tony raised his hand to knock and Sherry stopped him. "I don't think this is a good idea," she said. "I mean, why should we bother them even if they are screwing? To hell with it. Let's go."

"You mean you're not even curious?" Tony reached down and turned the knob and, surprisingly, the door opened. There was no sound coming from inside. "So eager they didn't even lock it."

"Tony!" Sherry whispered. "No. We can't just walk in that girl's mom."

But Tony paid no attention and opened the door. Then they were standing in the living room, which was empty. Sherry started to protest again but Tony held his fingers to his lips and pointed toward the bedroom. Sherry heard sounds then, like voices but not like voices. They were more like moaning and there was the sound of bed springs squeaking. Tony caught Sherry by the wrist and led her toward the door. When they reached the doorway, Tony pushed Sherry back slightly and, still with his finger to his lips, shook his head and pointed at the sight before her. Daddy was kicking Sheila Whitcomb! Fucking her with all his might!

Mouth open, Sherry stared at the spectacle on the bed as though hypnotized. The prim and proper Sheila Whitcomb did not look so prim and not proper at all with her legs wide apart and clawing frantically at her father's buttocks and back as Victor Redgrave's ass pumped hard, driving his cock into her cunt. The two seemed oblivious to everything but kicking. Tony and Sherry might as well have been a mile away. Sheila's eyes were shut tight and both of their voices rose now. Apparently instructors taught more than just foreign languages at the finishing schools the highbrow Sheila had at tended, for she seemed most adept at "kick talk".

"Fuck my cunt off, Victor," Sheila was saying as she thrust her pelvis like a veteran acrobat at Victor Redgrave's plunging ass. Sherry was surprised that suddenly her father's age was more apparent than she had previously noticed. He rode the girl well but the flesh on his legs and rump sagged slightly and quivered as be slammed his meat home. In contrast to the younger, more firm legs that pummeled his backside, he was noticeably an older man. "… Yes, stick it in, you bastard… you dirty cocksucker, mother-fucking son of a bitch, jab… jab… jab… cram it in, up in all the way… yes, yes… kick my ass off… hurt me with your prick… stab my snatch… oh God, yes… that's the way to screw… you know how to fuck a girl's twat, don't you? Nice baby, nice… feels good, huh? You like it between my legs, don't you, you cunt-lapping fucking degenerate? That's what you are, you know that? You're a miserable kicking degenerate! Fuck me harder or I'll kill you!" she screamed insanely. "You rotten bastard. FUCK!"