Robert Vickers: Sister in chains

"I'll do anything I want – and you can get the hell out of here, you cheap hustler. You can't do such disgusting things to my daughter and get away with it. I won't let you."

"I didn't do anything she didn't want," the youth protested. But he saw the uselessness of arguing. The man was totally drunk and turning more and more violent as he raged. Larry quickly slipped into the front seat of his car, getting his pants tangled around his ankles. He keyed the car to life and roared off, still half-naked.

"Go fuck a cow, you scummy motherfucker!" screamed Mr. Lawrence. "And don't ever let me see you again!"

"Daddy, please, you're hurting me," Brandy protested. The man's grip on her wrist tightened to the point where she was positive he was going to break bones. No amount of struggling would get him to release her.

"You little cunt. How dare you do such a thing with a piece of shit like that?"

"Larry's okay," she weakly protested; "And I didn't do anything wrong. It's natural. I'm human and I've got needs. It's you who're being disgusting. Why can't you butt out of my life?"

He slapped her. The girl thought her head would burst from the impact. She felt the outline of his fingers coming into bold, red relief on her soft skin. Rubbing the hurt, she looked up at her father with hatred in her eyes. He had meddled in her private life once too often.

She didn't know if other fathers took the interest in their daughters' lives that this man took in his. She didn't much care. Brandy was fed up with him dictating when she had to be in from her dates, telling her how to act, ordering her around more like she was a slave than his daughter.

"You disgust me," she snapped. "You're drunk again, aren't you? You think you're so superior, and yet you go out and get stinking drunk every night of the week. I don't know how Mom stands you. I hate you!"

He slapped her again.

The pain brought back all the terrible things he had done to her in the past. He had kept her from going to the Junior Prom because he thought her date was a fag. Brandy had cried bitterly all night long over that, not knowing how to apologize to her date. She had let the youth fuck her to make it up to him. She knew he wasn't a queer, but she couldn't tell her father that. The teenager had had long hair. That was good enough for her father.

And worst of all was the time her father had followed her on a date. She had gotten a date with a college student and had gone to his fraternity house. The idea of being among real men, grownups as compared to the kids running around her thigh school, had turned her on in a big way.

They'd served beer and wine and even some hard liquor at the party. When dope had come out, she had felt like a woman of the world. But her father had burst in and pulled her out. She had been so humiliated that she had never even tried to call her college friend to explain. Brandy didn't know how she possibly could. And it had gotten worse after that.

Her father had followed her everywhere. But her mother had finally convinced him that Brandy was eighteen and old enough to take care of herself without any parental intervention.

That signaled Brandy's running wild. She felt the intense sexual longings in her young cunt explode. She couldn't get enough cock then. She would fuck anyone who slowed down long enough to get a hard-on. The girl didn't care who it was either.

She had had brief affair with the high school coach, but he had tired easily. He wasn't half the stud he thought he was. The blonde teenager had dumped him for the student body president, who was as good a cocksman as he told all the chicks. Brandy had enjoyed being with him, being seen with him, sucking his cock, anything. As long as the was with him, she had some prestige.

Brandy could keep him sexually satisfied and he would allow her to bask in his glory.

He had dumped her for the Homecoming Queen. But Brandy didn't mind that much. She was slowly discovering that no one man was enough to keep her sexually sated. She needed more and more cock. The freer the rein her father gave her, the hornier she got.

Randy Brandy, they called her around the school, and with good cause. She had fucked just about every desirable male, getting half the football team at one practice. She had walked bowlegged for a week after that – and she still wanted more cock shoved up her hot little cunt.

She needed sex like a junkie needs dope. The girl simply wasn't able to satisfy her rampaging desires. That was one reason she had accepted the date with Larry. He wasn't all that good, but his cock was thick and be could fuck enough to get her off.

Brandy tried to pull her skirt over her naked cunt to cover up in front of her drunken father as he jerked her along to the house.

"You little bitch. How dare you shame me like that?"

"Shame you? Why you drunken hypocrite!" she screamed. "How could I possibly shame you? You're already the worst possible human being in the world! You're a cheap drunk! All I was doing was enjoying sex. Is that so wrong, wanting to fuck?"

"Don't talk dirty," he said, his voice suddenly cold and menacing. She looked into his eyes. The girl hardly knew what to do. As long as he was acting drunk, she could handle him – after a fashion. This was new and deadly.

"You're hurting me," she repeated, hoping to get rid of whatever horrible thoughts were running through his crazed mind.

"You're a real cunt, aren't you? You spread for every stud in that perverted high school you go to. You even put out for the faggots, like that one you wanted to go to the prom with. You'll fuck anything that comes along, but you won't even give your father a little kiss."

He moved closer to her. She flinched, trying to avoid him.

"Just one little kiss. You can't tell your dear old dad that his loving little girl won't give him one little kiss."

He was slobbering on her now. She fought to get away but he was too strong for her. His weight carried her to the ground. He forced his mouth against hers, kissing her with wet juicy slobbers.

"You're disgusting!" she cried.

He slapped her. Then he began dragging her to the house, his fingers laced through the thick lustrous mane of her long blonde hair. She cried out, but couldn't get away.

"I'll show you what's disgusting. I'm going to show you what a real man can do. No more of these cheap studs you pick up when you go out. This is going to be the real thing."

"Daddy, no!" she screamed, trying to get her hair out of his hands. It felt as if he were pulling her scalp off. "You can't do this to me!"

"The hell I can't, little girl! I'll show you what you've been missing. Your old dad's going to show his fuck crazy cunt of a daughter what it means to take a real man's cock into her cunt."

Brandy's mind began moving in slow motion. Everything around her moved so slowly she wondered if this might not be a bad dream. But it was no nightmare. No nightmare had ever felt this real. The pain in her wrist where he had grabbed her out of the car kept her aware of everything.

The jerking on her hair sent agony lacing down into her neck. And the crazed look on the drunk's face told the blonde teenager that her father wasn't going to stop until he had fucked her. It didn't take much imagination to guess what would happen next.

The young girl tried to keep her knees pressed together.

"That won't do any good, you cheap little whore. I'm going to fuck that cunt until you beg me to stop. And then I'll do it some more. You're gonna be sorry you shunned me all these years. I'm going to teach you good, you little bitch!"

The girl couldn't believe her ears. The man was drunk, raving mad, but he was sober enough to make sense. She felt his frustration, his rage, and it was all directed against her. Somehow, that took some of the fight out of her. And that was her downfall.