Randy Howard - Chained daughter

"Oh, fuck!" she cried, happily. "Fuck me, Roger!"

Roger moaned against Connie's face, pressing her body tight beneath him. His hands roamed her sides again as he kissed her cheeks, her ears, his tongue swabbing her eyelids and into her nostrils. His fingers worked through the girl's soft hair, thumbs rubbing across her temples, massaging the stabbing pain of her sexual need. The boy's belly worked, jumping his cock within her passage. But he showed no desire to start the withdrawal, to start stroking his cock in her cunt. He was happy to have his cock caught, surrounded by her writhing, milking cuntal walls.

"Oh, shit!" cried Connie. "Damn you! Do it! Fuck! Fuck me! Damn your useless ass!"

"Yes… yes… yes…"

Roger moaned as Connie thrust her pelvis up against him, lifting him into the air above her. She grunted as his weight dropped again, his cockhead slamming a fraction of an inch farther into her yielding belly. But the impetus was enough to start him moving, start his cock sliding. She gasped as his prick pulled back, her cunt clutching at the retreating cockhead. She trapped his cock when the glans reached her inner lips, seemed in danger of falling out.

"No! No! Don't pull out!" she cried. "Fuck me!"

"I am!" he cried. "I… am!"

Roger thrust his cock again, riding all of the way down into Connie's cunt. Connie's tits hurt beneath his weight. The boy bottomed out, began pulling back as he found the rhythm of their beating hearts. He stroked slowly for a dozen stabs, then began speeding up, gasping breath as he thrust hard. Connie worked with him, thrusting up each time he fell, relaxing each time he withdrew his cock. She timed her movements to Roger's, timing the strokes to give her the greatest pleasure when he slammed down.

"Oh, yes! Yes! Yesssssss!" she cried.

Connie's insides were boiling, exploding. She reached climax and stayed there. Roger felt the machine-gun workings of her cunt against his cock. His balls drew even tighter as the boy's prostate started to boil over.

"Oh, shit!" cried Roger. "I… I… I'm coming!"

His seed slammed out of his cock, Roger falling all the way through the bottom of the world. He thought he was drowning in Connie's cunt as the girl wailed beneath him.

"Oh, Roger! Roger…"

"Whore! Whore of Babylon!"

The deep voice roared out over the fucking children like the blast of an angry God. Roger froze with his hands caressing Connie's arms. His cock was still spurting the last of his cum into her welcoming cunt. The hair on his neck rose in fear as he slowly looked around.

"Mr. Cain!"

"Daddy!"

Connie's gasp came at the same instant. Her fists doubled to push Roger away. He resisted a moment, their bellies glued together by their sweat. Their pubic patches were tangled together.

Then he retreated from Connie's cunt, his cock dropping out with a loud plop. It fell between her legs as Roger scooted back, trying to cover himself from her father's eyes when he jumped to his feet and turned around to face the furious man.

"You filth!" Thomas Cain roared the insult, one hand raised to strike out at the children and trembling with his anger. He wore a white shirt and tie, his shirtsleeves and trousers rolled up to his knees.

"How dare you defile this holy day?" demanded Connie's father. "You do this… this sinful thing on Sunday!"

Connie shivered with fear, unable to answer her father's angry words. Then, skulking behind him, she saw the smirking face of her thirteen year old brother, Timothy. Now she knew why her father had come to the cove. Timothy had brought him. The little bastard! She'd get him for this.

"Get up, whore!" roared her father. "Get dressed!"

Disgust wrinkled Cain's face as the naked children jumped to their feet. They scurried around, looking for their abandoned swimwear. Roger spotted his trunks at last, where he had tossed them, a dozen feet away from the blanket. His ears and neck burned as he moved to retrieve them, his damn cock still half-hard. It stuck out in front of him like a burning beacon.

"Sir, I…"

"Silence, boy!" warned Cain. "Your parents will deal with you! I want you gone from my eyes!"

Timothy, standing carefully behind his father, sneered as Roger managed to roll his trunks over his hips. Roger flopped his cock out of the way. The damn thing still pushed the waistband of his trunks out from his belly, advertising his shame. He looked at Connie, who was still struggling with her wet swimsuit, and fled.

Connie saw Roger run into the surf. He splashed around the rocky bluff to disappear without looking back. Connie's eyes moved back to her father and her brother. She glanced down at Timothy's pants. His walking shorts tented out from his crotch. The little bastard had a hardon! Which at least proved he had a cock. Until this moment, Connie would have bet he had a Bible between his legs, rather than normal sex equipment. He was such a sanctimonious little sonofabitch!

"Constance!" said Cain, dangerously.

Connie looked around at her father – saw him removing his belt from his trousers. The girl sucked in breath as he doubled the strap around his hand. The buckle was trapped in his palm as he swung the belt. It made a loud cracking noise against his other hand. The noise startled the curious gull, who had returned.

"Daddy…"

"Silence, whore!" he roared, cutting off her words. He moved a step closer, the leather strap swinging back and forth. "That you have brought such shame to my house!"

The belt came up over his shoulder, the doubled strap slipping loose. "Thank the Lord your mother died before she could see this terrible thing!" cried her father.

Crack! The leather strap flew out straight, the tip breaking the sound barrier and making a noise like a gunshot. The belt tip lashed against Connie's shoulder, stunning the girl into standing still. She came to attention, her swimsuit forgotten and dragging from her fingers.

"I… reject thee! Daughter of… Satan!"

Crack! Again the belt lashed out, the tip catching one of her nipples. Connie cried out at the pain. She dropped her swimsuit and wrapped her arms around her tits.

"Owwwwwww! Don't! No, please! Daddy!"

Cain ignored his daughter's pleadings. He moved a step closer, lashing the belt quickly now. The leather cracked and cracked again, the strap painting broad white stripes about her arms and hips and ass. The marks moved down to Connie's thighs as she doubled over, tried to dance away. But she knew better than to leave the blanket, or move out of his reach.

"How… dare you… do… this to the… memory… of your… sainted mother?"

Each gasp for breath punctuated another lick of the belt. Cain gasped with the exertion of whipping his daughter, sweat streaming down his face. His shirt was dark beneath his armpits, his bare toes digging into the sand.

"Bitch!" he cried. "Whore bitch!"

Connie sniffled and sobbed. She cried constantly as he continued to whip her with his belt, turning from side to side and offering a better target to his aim. Soon every exposed part of her body stung with the stripes of the belt.

"Whore!" cried Cain. "Bitch! Harlot… of Hell!"

"Daddy… Daddy… Daddy…"

Connie moaned as she sobbed his name over and over. Her voice added fuel to his fury, as though in the whipping he could reject her as his daughter, deny her sinful and lust-filled body. Connie's hands covered her cunt, pressed tight together after one lash nearly caught the inner lips. The belt tip tore across the outer lip, burning like fire.

"Oh, God! Please! Please!" she begged.

"Cry, bitch!" her father sneered. "Cry!"

Pain filled Connie's body and her extremities. The girl sobbed, no longer trying to turn away. She faced her father, accepting the terrible beating. Her head bent low, and her eyes saw Timothy making faces behind his father as he laughed at her. The boy repeatedly rubbed his erection, his tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth. He was becoming sexually aroused by the beating. His eyes stared, his nostrils dilating. His breath came in shorter and shorter gasps.