Paul Gable - Daughter degraded

Cindy lay still, watching him dress silently. Even when he stepped over her without looking down, she watched him. What had happened to her? Why had she suddenly become a willing victim, wanting more pain, wanting more hurt, wanting him to stay with her. If only she had the courage, the will to prop herself up and beg him to stay with her. She needed him, wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her, touching her while his dick fucked out her hole.

"Good fuck, baby. We'll see how you make out later with the others."

The others? Reality crashed in on her like a bomb. She didn't move, afraid the slightest twitch would inspire some awful act on Jack's part. The desire for him to stay was gone now. She only wanted him to leave her alone. She had to sort out all the confusing, conflicting feelings now racing through her mind.

When the door slammed shut and she was alone again, Cindy continued to see him, to feel him in her. Oozing cum and blood dampened her cunt. She wondered then why she had reacted the way she had. As she tried to figure out her emotions during the rape, another concern intruded into her thoughts. Could she withstand the onslaught that was sure to come later? And what about her mother? What awful torment was she going through at this point? Surely she had noticed by now that her daughter was overdue from coming home from the market. Cindy drew both hands to her mouth and stifled the sobs that racked her body.

Back at home, Rhoda Williams had problems of her own. Her daughter was late coming home and she was about to set out, to look for her. But the phone had rang just as she was about to leave the house. Rushing back to the ball, Rhoda picked up the receiver, expecting to hear her daughter's voice at the other end.

"I want to suck your cunt."

She froze, her mind going black as the awful word still rang in her head.

"I wanna suck your cunt, baby… stick my tongue up there and wiggle it all around, taste some of that sweet juice. Man, oh man, you're gonna dig it, wiggle that ass around when you sit on my face. Shit, then you're gonna cry out, want more, reach back and try to grab hold of my dick when…"

"Stop it! Who is this? God, who is this?"

Rhoda was trembling, her fingers barely able to hold onto the phone as those terrible words came pouring out.

"Man, you ain't gonna be able to stop that pretty ass of yours once I get my lips on your cunt. Yeahhh!" The voice trailed off into a soft sigh. She could hear same fumbling at the other end of the line, imagining what the caller was doing. "Yeah, I'm gonna suck real good and hard, flicking my tongue over your clit before I…"

"Don't do this. If you call again I'll phone the police!" she said.

Why couldn't she hang up? She was thirty-seven, a mature woman, a woman who after her ugly divorce had vowed she would never have a thing to do with men. She had a fine career as a legal secretary with the possibility of going to law school with her employer's aid. Cindy was a fine girl who got good grades at school. Her income was comfortable, even a bit lavish. And yet something had been missing from her life, something that this anonymous phone caller was touching, rousing from its long sleep. In spite of the suddenness, of the total un-preparedness, Rhoda was feeling the stirrings of sex for the first time in nearly ten years.

"Then I'm gonna back off, do real nice things to your body."

"Stop this now!"

"You can hang tip right now… if you want." Why couldn't she? She was a mature, intelligent woman. She was past her mid-thirties, but she still turned heads on the streets. No lines or blemishes blotted her face or body. Youthful looks was something that ran in her family. Nothing sagged, nothing indicated her real age. At times, men mistook Rhoda for Cindy's older sister. Her firm thighs, long legs, perky attitude, firm ass and high riding tits all bespoke of a woman in the prime of her sexual life. There was an exuberance, a freshness in her glance and walk that attracted men. And yet she shied away from them, refused passes, ignored their fumbling plays for her attention. She was determined to make herself a career, shelter her daughter from men, from men like her former husband who had tried to drag her into the dirt.

"The bastard," she had muttered at the end of the divorce proceedings, for bringing his girlfriend there to meet Cindy… right under the eyes of the court and lawyers! That had settled it. No more would she trust men. No more would she… and yet now she was panting, feeling her body melt under her business suit as she listened to those awful words coming from the phone.

"Then maybe I'll start touchin' those tits of yours… nice, big tits. Start calmin' 'em, suckin' 'em as hard as I sucked your cunt."

Who was this? It scorned to be someone who knew her, or had at least seen her. She thought of several men who would be this cowardly.

"Then maybe I'll start playin' with your cunt again."

Rhonda was panting hard, almost babbling, feeling dizzy as heat concentrated between her legs. Her knees were growing weak. Holding the sweaty receiver between her ear and shoulder, Rhoda leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, closing her eyes, trying to get that throbbing itch between her thighs under control. She wished she could touch herself now, could… but that was out of the question. She had to hang up, to get rid of this pervert!

"Then maybe I'll get back to your pussy with my mouth. Yeah, I dig eatin' out pussy."

"I'm going to hang up, to…"

"Then why don'tcha?"

He laughed softly at her dilemma, telling her again how he was going to eat her cunt.

"My cock's real dark at the tip… real dark and big. You'll feel it slippin' in 'cause it'll stretch you. You haven't been fucked much, I bet. I'll stretch you with my cock 'til you squirm and cry and…"

"No!"

With the last ounce of will power, Rhoda slammed the phone down, clinging to the doorway, trying to catch her breath.

"I'm so glad you could come," Rhoda said breathlessly, holding the front door open.

"No problem. What's wrong?"

Brad Dennis walked into the house, straightening his tie as Rhoda closed the door behind him.

"It's Cindy, Mr. Dennis. I… I just don't know what to do. She's gone… at least, she hasn't come home from the store. She's never this late and I… well, I'm worried," she confessed.

Desperate for help, she had called Brad Dennis.

He was her employer, a criminal lawyer who had been practicing in Beverly Hills for nearly eight years. Rhoda looked upon him as more than a boss – a friend, confidant, and lately, as a potential mate, although she would never admit that to herself, let alone to Brad Dennis. She stood by the phone, glancing at it, feeling guilty as she wrung her hands and watched Brad's face darken with concern.

"Have you called the police?"

Rhoda nodded her head, sucking in a deep breath. Even now while talking with him, she felt her knees weaken once more. The feeling between her legs – that itchy, hot feeling that raced up and down her thighs – was coming back. Lately it came back whenever she stood near the man. Even now while talking about her missing daughter, Rhoda felt excited, turned on by Brad.

"But they said they'd have to wait twenty-four hours before they did anything. Lots of girls run away, they said. Cindy wouldn't run away. She was too happy, too…"

Rhoda couldn't finish her sentence. Thoughts of what her daughter might be going through terrified her. There had been stories of women disappearing off the streets, of young girls getting picked up, never to be seen again. She thought of these stories and moaned, sitting down on the edge of the sofa.

"That's all right. I've got some friends down at the station. Maybe I can get something going," Brad said, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders.