Norma Egan - Daddy_s slut girl

"And you, Cindy?" said Emily. "How old are you? Why are you going to California – a vacation?"

Cindy said. "I'm eighteen," she said, "and I'm going there to look for work. New York is so crowded, and it's not safe on the streets."

Miss Trout glanced at her with that cool look of amusement which seemed a habit with her. "Cindy," she said, "If you had a brain in your head – or any experience of life – you wouldn't be hitchhiking alone across the country. I don't mean to pry, and don't worry I won't try to get you sent home. But if you're in any kind of trouble and need help, you can trust me. Hitchhiking is terribly dangerous. You could get killed, raped… So if you think I can help you, just tell me."

Cindy blushed. "My pop was real mean to me, and-and I can't stay with him any more. I'm going to go live with my mother in Los Angeles." She trusted Miss Trout and felt no qualms about telling her this much.

They reached Kansas City in the late afternoon, and Emily Trout invited Cindy to stop at her house for dinner. "You could wash your clothes, too, and stay the night if you want," she said pleasantly.

"You probably need a rest stop after all that traveling."

"That would be great," said Cindy. "Thank you so much."

She wasn't so grateful when she met Emily's brother Calvin Trout. Cindy thought he was the meanest, most sour-looking old fart she'd ever met. Pale, watery-eyed, with thinning brown hair and hunched shoulders, Calvin peered hostility at the world through wire-rimmed spectacles and spoke in a nasal whine. He gave Cindy the creeps.

Nevertheless she decided to stay, for she was starved and she badly needed to wash her clothes. Emily gave her a pretty pink robe to wear while her clothes were in the washer, and they had a great supper of lamb chops and mashed potatoes and salad, marred only by Calvin's nasal complaints. He hardly spoke to Cindy, only glared at her.

Emily urged Cindy to go to bed early and get plenty of sleep, even brought her a cup of cocoa to drink in bed and a stack of magazines to read. "You just have a good rest, dear," she said, squeezing Cindy's shoulder. "Don't worry about a thing."

Cindy smiled gratefully. She soon got very sleepy and found herself nodding off before she'd gotten through the first magazine. It was almost as if the cocoa had been drugged…

Cindy blinked as harsh light flooded the room. She gazed dizzily around and recognized the pretty little guestroom Miss Trout had assigned her. The bedside clock said it was a little after midnight. She'd been asleep since eight, but she was sure she'd turned the light off… Then her blue eyes popped wide open when she saw Calvin and Emily standing by her bed.

"Don't scream, dear," said Emily. "It won't do you a bit of good."

Cindy gawked. Something very strange was happening.

Emily wore a leather jumpsuit, black and gleaming like a snakeskin, and she had a little whip in her hand which she was twitching impatiently. Before, she'd worn that bulky tweed suit, and Cindy hadn't noticed how big and pointed her tits were. They stuck out sharply in the leather suit, like iron mountains. Emily's face was different. No longer pleasant, it was more hawk-like, alert and strangely excited. She had painted her lips bright-red.

Emily's appearance was startling enough, but Cindy could hardly believe Calvin. He was grinning like an idiot, his sour face revolutionized by hot excitement, and behind his thick glasses his watery blue eyes looked glazed and crazy. He was wearing nothing but a diaper. Yes, a diaper, folded just like for a baby and pinned with big gold safety pins.

Cindy didn't know what to say. She looked questioningly at Emily, who smiled – an icy smile that made Cindy's blood run cold. Emily's strong mannish hand, with short unpainted nails, twitched convulsively around the handle of the whip.

"Now, Cindy," she said briskly, "my brother and I have a little game we like to play, just some harmless fun. We want to play it with your. Just be a good sport for a few minutes, you won't be hurt. It's the least you can do in exchange for my hospitality." She studied Cindy a moment and detected a spark of rebellion in the girl's eyes. Her voice became menacing. "One more thing," she said. "What happens tonight must be kept a secret. I'm a businesswoman, and my brother is a professional librarian, so we have reputations to keep. Not everyone would understand… So if you're tempted to tell anyone, I can always have you sent back to your father."

Cindy swallowed hard. Whatever screwy thing they wanted to do, it had to be better than living with Pop again. She shivered as she recalled his sweaty body, his reeking breath, his repulsive sexual advances.

"All right, Miss Trout," she said meekly. "I promise."

"Good," said Emily. She glanced at her brother, who was ogling her and leering like an idiot. For a brief moment Emily's cold face flashed with a chilling kind of excitement, and she twitched the little whip in her hand. "Very well," she went on, "we can start the game now."

Emily stepped back a few paces and said harshly. "Calvin, you naughty boy! What are you doing here?"

Calvin trembled. His expression was confusing to Cindy. It seemed to be compounded half of fear and half of glee. "I just wanted to see the pretty lady," he said in a sing-song voice.

Emily struck him sharply on the back with her whip. The crack of the whip made Cindy jump, but Calvin only flinched a little – and then a look of positive ecstasy came into his watery eyes. His voice was as whiny as ever. "Please don't hurt me," he whimpered.

"That's for going away without telling me," snapped Emily. "Now, what is it you want, Calvin?"

Calvin's eyes focused hotly on Cindy's heaving bosom. Her round ripe young tits swelled up under the pink robe. "Titties," he said, drooling a little in his excitement. "I want to see her titties."

Again Emily struck with the whip. This time it lashed over his left shoulder, and Cindy could see the angry red welt. Emily struck hard enough to hurt but not to draw blood. "You naughty boy!" she said. "You know that's not nice."

"I want to see her titties," Calvin whined, shivering with his strange ecstasy.

Emily said in a normal voice to Cindy, "Lower your robe."

Cindy began to grasp the rules of this sick game, even though she didn't understand the purpose. Calvin was to have his wishes – and to be punished for them, too. Shuddering, Cindy untied the belt of the robe and began slipping the garment off her shoulders. She wasn't wild about cooperating with these crazies, but it was better than having the police take her back to Pop.

Calvin breathed very loudly as he watched Cindy bare her boobs. His sick blue eyes focused, wet and gleaming, on her superb adolescent tits and their sweet pink nipples. Cindy slipped the robe down to her waist, completely exposing the ripe jugs, and waited. She happened to glance up at Emily and saw that her eyes, too, were warm as she gazed at Cindy's tits. But when Emily saw the girl looking at her, she went cold again.

"All right, Calvin," she said, "you've had your sinful wish. You go back to bed."

"Noooo," Calvin whined, squirming a little in his diaper, "I want more. I want to touch."

The whip came down with a sharp crack on his bare back, and Calvin shrieked. Obviously it hurt, but no sooner had the shriek left his lips than he smiled. What a sickie, thought Cindy. The whole scene was revolting her. She wished she could escape, but Emily had too much on her.

"Just a little touch, Calvin," Emily said icily. "Indulge your evil desires if you must, but then you're going straight to bed."

"Yes, Mommy," Calvin whined.

Mommy? Emily was his sister. Cindy slowly began to understand just how sick Calvin was. Emily must be a little nuts, too, to indulge him in this bizarre game. Cindy got the impression that the mannish redhead liked wielding that whip.