"Chained daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Howard Randy)

CHAPTER FOUR

Cain sighed as his thick cream washed out of his daughter's mouth. He shook his head, pulled his cock out of Connie's lips. The wet cockhead slid over her chin and dropped between her tits as he sat back, blinking and gathering his strength.

"Oh, Daddy!" Connie sighed, working her jaw with her fingers. "You hurt me!"

He scowled. "I'll do more than hurt you, bitch!"

Suddenly he stood, Connie feeling strangely light-chested without his ass pressing down into her tits. She stared after her father as he went into the pantry and dug into the cabinet holding tools and odds and ends. Then he came back with a ball of thick cord.

"Roll over!" he ordered.

Connie obeyed, afraid not to follow his orders. Cain grabbed her wrists, tying them together and forcing her arms up toward her shoulders. The girl gasped at the sharp pain and tried to work her shoulders free, but without luck.

"Please, Daddy! You're hurting me!" she cried.

"Bitch!" He muttered as he sat the girl up and wrapped the cord around her arms several times, pulling it tight until it dug into her flesh. Then he grabbed her tit in his fingers, yanking and pinching on the nipple. The cord wrapped tight around the globe of flesh, was yanked tight as Connie sobbed. But she knew better than to cry out. Protest would only make him hurt her more!

The other tit was tied the same way, the globe white as the blood was forced out of the surface flesh. Her father continued to wrap the cord around Connie's body, around her hips and down to her thighs. There he paused to run it between her leg and up through the crack of her ass, drawing it tight around her hip. When the other leg was painfully tied in the same manner he grabbed her cunt mound in his fingers and wrapped the cord around it.

"Owwwwwww!" Connie couldn't help screaming now. "Oh, please! Don't! Don't!"

"Shut up, whore! Shut up!" he cried.

"Ohhhhh, God!" Connie sobbed. "God, help me!"

Her father tested the hold of the cord around her cuntal lips, decided it would stay put. He ran the cord through her legs again, and wrapped her thighs the same way he had wrapped her body. Cain worked quickly, and soon the girl was tied from shoulders to ankles. The cord cut off the circulation in her flesh, which soon tingled.

Timothy laughed. "She looks like she wants to kill us, Father!"

Cain nodded. "She's lucky I don't kill her, son. Give me your underpants."

The boy scooped up his shorts and shook them out, giving them to his father. Cain turned the briefs inside out, nodding in satisfaction when he saw a brown smear across the seat. The crotch was stained yellow. The boy hadn't changed his underwear for days, maybe a week.

"This will do," he said. "It's just what she needs!"

He bent over Connie and stuffed the dirty undershorts into her mouth. She gagged and tried to spit them out, but her father wrapped more of the cord around her head, binding the underwear in place. The sour taste of the cotton cloth gagged her completely. She could only moan, the sound muffled by Timothy's underpants pushing back against her throat.

"What are we gonna do to her now, Father?" asked the boy as Cain studied his handiwork.

"Something the bitch won't like!" said the man. "Something she'll never forget!"

Satisfied with the job he had done on Connie, Cain moved to the telephone. She stared as he dialed a number and then introduced himself when the instrument was answered.

"I have a package for you," he said, cryptically. "Yes, fourteen – fifteen in four months. Blonde, with generous tits. The price is still the same? Good. I'm reporting her now. I'll look for you at midnight."

His finger hit the bar, Cain smiled evilly at his daughter. Then he dialed Information and asked for the number of the sheriff's substation. He dialed that, and a moment later was speaking to a desk sergeant.

"Yes, Thomas Cain, 377 Mapletree Lane. My fourteen year old daughter ran away this afternoon. Will you send a man out, or shall I come down to the station?"

Connie listened in horror to his words as he described a false story of her running away. Cain spoke glibly, his words tinged with just the right amount of worry. The girl on the floor shook her head as she listened, Timothy doing his best to smother his laughter. Damn him! Connie wanted to kill the brat!

Cain hung up the phone, looked down at Connie again. "Well, Constance. It seems you are now just a statistic. If you make it to the city, the chances are one in three Timothy and I will never see you again."

Timothy exploded in laughter, doubling over to pound his fists against his thighs. "Oh, Father! What are we going to do with her?"

"We're going to sell her," said Cain, smiling. "I don't know what they call it today. When I was your age, son, it was white slavery. A very nice man is coming at midnight to give us five hundred dollars. He'll take the whore with him when he leaves. I believe he takes them to Mexico, or someplace as exotic."

Connie shook her head from side to side, gagging at her brother's smelly underpants. She could taste his shit against her tongue, but she couldn't get sick. The shorts kept her from throwing up.

"Grab her feet, Timothy."

Cain bent over Connie, grabbing her arms as he gave the order to the boy. Together, they manhandled her upstairs and into her bedroom, where they dropped her on the floor.

"Jeepers, she's heavy, Father," said the boy.

"The man who's buying her will work the fat off her ass," said Cain. "Let's throw her in the closet, just in case someone comes visiting."

It was the work of a minute to do just that, Cain pushing Connie's clothes out of the way to dump her in the back of the closet. She landed on several pair of shoes, wriggling around in a futile attempt to find a more comfortable position. Her father and brother looked at her a final time, and closed the door.

Trapped in darkness, Connie sobbed hysterically. The tears flowed down her cheeks as pain stabbed in everyplace. Her cunt seemed to be on fire and her tits felt as though the cord was cutting them off. They couldn't mean to leave her here for eight hours or more!

But leave her in the closet was exactly what her father meant to do. Connie fought the cords until it was clear, struggling only made them dig in farther, hurting her even more. At last her eyes ran dry and she concentrated on suffereing, watching the crack of light at the bottom of the closet door. Time dragged slowly, but eventually the light faded, went out. What time was it?

After an eternity of torture, Connie managed to drift asleep. From time to time she heard noises in other parts of the house as her father or Timothy moved about. At supper time she caught the smell of food cooking, and began to chew on the dirty undershorts again in her hunger. The taste of the cloth was sweetly-sour, but she tried to bite chunks of it free.

Connie was sleeping again when the closet door suddenly opened, the light from the room flooding in. She blinked as her father caught her ankles, dragging her out. Where was the man who was taking her away? She looked about, but saw only her brother in his pajamas.

Cain cut the cord holding the gag and pulled it out of her mouth. Connie spat, and spat again, dragging her tongue across her teeth in a futile effort to scrape away the taste. Now she saw Timothy bring his hard cock out of his fly.

"It's your brother's bedtime," said her father. "But I promised him he could have his cock sucked once more before I sell you."

Timothy didn't bother pulling down his pajama bottoms. He fell against Connie's face, stabbing his prick into her mouth. It seemed even harder than before, as though the excitement of seeing her bound and a prisoner had raised his lust to a new level. Before Connie could twist her face away the boy stabbed his cock through her lips and across the roof of her mouth.

"Suck me, Connie!" he cried, happily. "Suck me good!"

Connie lay flat on the floor, Timothy's feet kicking into her stomach and his knees pressing into her cruelly bound tits. The boy thrust his prick as hard as he could, banging his pelvis against her chin. His balls slammed down against her, slapping loudly each time he bottomed out.

"Oh, suck!" cried the boy. "Suck! Suck My cock!"

Her teeth jarred with the force of his blows. Connie tried to writhe away, but she was trapped, helpless. She could only take his cock, which seemed bigger now than it had this afternoon. The sour-tasting head worked against the back of her mouth, stabbing again and again.

"Oh, darn! Father! Father, I'm coming!"

Timothy groaned as he felt his balls expand, ready to explode his seed into his sister's throat. The boy slowed his fucking pace, but it was too late. His cum erupted, slammed out, coursed into Connie's raw throat. Acrid though it tasted, it at least soothed the dry soreness there.

Timothy fell away, onto his back. His feet were still across Connie's tits as he sighed, rubbing his cock.

"Oh, please!" cried Connie. "Please, Daddy! Water! I'm thirsty!"

Cain glared hatred at his daughter. He rubbed his mouth, and Connie was afraid he was going to refuse her request. Then Timothy giggled.

"I gotta pee, Father," said the boy. "Want me to pee in her mouth? She can drink that!"

The man smiled. "Yes, son. Give her all she can drink."

Timothy scrambled up and turned over, stabbing his cock into Connie's mouth again. The boy lay against her face, his weight pushing her head down against the hard floor. For a minute nothing happened. Then Connie felt the first trickle of acrid piss run across her tongue, down into her throat. It was hot and sour.

"It's coming!" cried the boy. "I'm peeing in her mouth, Father!"

Cain laughed. "Drown the whore, son!"

The stream increased, grew heavier as Timothy released the valve closing his bladder. The piss coursed into Connie's mouth, the girl forced to swallow to prevent it from going down the wrong way. The boy gasped, pissing strongly into his sister's mouth, his asshole flexing open and shut.

"Oh, jeez!" Timothy pulled out. "That was fun, Father! Look, she drank it all!"

Connie's eyes were closed, her mouth gaping open. Suddenly Timothy felt pressure in his guts. The boy turned around, pulling down his pajama bottoms, pushing his ass toward her face. Connie felt the slight breeze of his ass as it came closer, and opened her eyes to see his brown asshole only inches from her face as the boy farted.

"Oh! Aggghhhhhhhhhhh!"

She gagged, turning away as Timothy released a second fart that, was almost as heavy as the first. Laughing, the boy plopped his ass down on Connie's face, looking up at his father.

"Should I take a shit, Father?"

"If you have to, son," said Cain.

"No!" Connie thrust her groin up into the air, trying to twist away from the boy. "Don't! You can't!"

"Shut up, whore!" cried Cain, slamming his foot against her shoulder. He pinned her down. "Do it, Timothy! Shit on the bitch – shit in her mouth!"

Timothy wiggled into position again, spreading his asscheeks and straining directly over Connie's mouth. But all he managed to produce was another small fart. Disappointed, he shook his head.

"I can't, Father. I'm sorry. Maybe you can do it to her."

"Oh, please!" Connie stared at the man, beseeching him for mercy. But there was none in him. He kicked at her shoulder again in obvious disappointment.

"I took a shit right after supper," said the man. "You're getting off easy, bitch! Stand aside, Timothy, so I can piss in her mouth."

The boy scurried out of the way while Cain brought his cock out of his trousers. It hung limp out of his fly. Connie remembered how good it felt in her cunt, but now it was fish-white and seemed horrible.

Cain strained, and the piss broke free, splashing into the tied girl's face. Connie tried to twist away, clamping her mouth shut, but he directed the spray against her nose. At last she had to open her mouth to breathe, and the stuff splashed in, quickly filling her throat and spilling over the corners of her lips.

The stream didn't last as long as it had on the beach. Soon he shook the last drops free and stuffed his cock back into his pants. Then he bent to replace the gag, tying it as tightly as before. Connie groaned as he caught her by the hair of her head and used that to drag her back into the closet. Then the light went out again, and she was once more in darkness.

At least there was moisture in her throat and mouth now, horrible though their piss tasted. And this time there were no shoes or other obstacles beneath her. Connie's legs and arms were numb with the cord cutting into her flesh, but she stretched out as well as she could and closed her eyes again. For a few minutes longer she heard her father and Timothy talking. Then the house was silent.

Connie fell asleep again, exhausted by her ordeal. It seemed only minutes before she heard heavy footsteps and the light flashed on. The closet door flew open and her father caught her hair again, dragging her out. Blinking, the girl stared in fright at the burly redheaded giant standing over her.

"There you are, Mr. Hobart. Good sound flesh." Cain rolled Connie over with his toe. "Nice tits and a cunt big enough to take any cock. I should know!"

"Doesn't look much like her pictures," said Hobart, his voice rumbling. "How do I know it's the same girl?"

"She needs a bath," admitted Cain. "Want me to clean her up for you?"

"No, that's all right. I'll take her like she is. We don't want them to get the idea things are going to be easy. She should be softened up."

Hobart laughed as he dug his wallet out of his hip pocket. Connie watched the man count out five hundred dollars into her father's hand, staring in horror. She hadn't really believed his threat, but he was doing it! He was selling her to this man!

"Five hundred. Thank you, Mr. Hobart. Shall I help you carry her down to your van?"

"Nah." Hobart bent and grabbed Connie by the hips. He lifted her easily and dropped her over his shoulder. Her tits were crushed against his massive shoulderblade. Hobart shifted her a bit, redistributing her weight and stabbed a finger up into her cunt, scraping his sharp nail across the sensitive lining.

Connie groaned, and Hobart laughed. He slapped her ass, hard, and she jumped. Then he shrugged his shoulders.

"She'll be frisky, once we get the ropes off her. Well, thank you, Mr. Cain. If ever you run across another one like her, we're always ready to buy."

He left the room, Connie bouncing on his shoulders as he went down the stairs. She lifted her head, managed to see her father's feet following them. Cain went as far as the back door, watched as Hobart opened the back of his van and dropped the girl into a pile of rugs. He snaked one across her, covering Connie completely and imprisoning her in darkness again. She sobbed, sucking dust into her nose from the rug. It made her sneeze violently.

The rear doors slammed and a moment later the engine started. Hobart gunned the van out of the driveway, then settled into a more sedate pace as he reached the highway. In the back, beneath the rug, Connie once more settled into a fretful sleep.

This time she didn't wake up until the rug was pulled from her body and Hobart grabbed her ankles, tugging her out of the van. She stared wildly as he threw her over his shoulder again and carried her into a building. The girl got the impression of white stucco around the entrance, and red tile beneath her bouncing face. Then she was carried down a flight of steps, dropped onto something soft and yielding, her face buried.

She heard the rustle of clothing for a minute. Then something cold moved across her back, and the cords were cut free. Connie gasped as her hands were loosened, and tried to rub her arms. But the long hours in bondage had weakned her, left her no strength at all. She could only moan when Hobart rolled her over and cut Timothy's underpants from her mouth. Then she gasped for breath: "Oh, God!" Connie gasped, her throat sore and her voice a hoarse rattle. "Please, water!"

"Shut up, cunt!"

Suddenly Hobart's open hand slammed across her face, cracking loudly. Connie's head was spun around and she smothered a cry of pain and his other hand struck her cheek from the other direction.

"Look at me, cunt! Look at your master!"

Connie managed to draw one hand up to her mouth, sucking in breath as she stared at the naked man. He was built like a barrel, his chest covered with a thick curling red fur. His legs seemed as thick as tree trunks, and a huge cock dangled over balls the size of tennis balls. He was circumcised, his soft cockhead almost half an inch larger in circumfrance than the shaft.

"Like what you see cunt?" demanded Hobart. "You better like it, because you're going to see nothing but cock from now on!"

He rubbed his balls and his cock, which began to grow hard. It lifted out toward Connie, the shaft growing impossibly long. The cock was as much bigger than her father's as Cain's was bigger than Timothy's.

"Oh, please!" gasped Connie. "What… what are you going to do to me?"

"Why, any Goddamn thing I want to do," said Hobart, grinning evilly. "I think I'll start by fucking you!"

His cock was fully hard now, at least twelve inches long and as thick as Connie's wrist. He moved closer, the girl trying to retreat. But there was no place to go. Suddenly Hobart dropped over her body, slamming his mouth against her lips and prying her thighs apart with his knee. Connie tried to suck in air to scream as the impossibly large cock slammed against her cunt.