Feature Writer: DarkEmrys
Feature Title: DADDY’S GIRLS 2
Published: 21.10.2011 / Copyright© 2011 by DarkEmrys
Story Codes: Incest, MF, MM, FF, TS, Rape, Blackmail, Slavery, Sadistic, Harem, Anal Violent, Prostitution
Synopsis: George is an interesting man – former government agent, handyman and sports fan, family man and businessman, but most importantly, Daddy. The family is a conglomerate of young prostitutes, by choice, mind you, and a few Brothers as the girls call them, their protectors. This is a stream-of-consciousness autobiography written by Daddy himself delivering the history of his life and the lives of his girls.
Daddy’s Girls 2
“Hi, George! What’ll it be tonight?” Josie asked with a wide grin.
“You on a plate, sweetheart,” I replied with a matching grin. I visited the diner quite often for several weeks after finding the place by accident. I guess you could say I fell for the eighteen year old beauty the moment I saw her.
“Behave, dirty old man. How about a melt and fries? Jorge’s got his secret sauce tonight,” she responded seriously while her eyes betrayed flirtatious mischief.
“Sounds delicious,” I said with a nod, my eyes centering on a grungy figure at the bar drilling holes into a petite teenage beauty alone at a booth across the way reading diligently.
“Josie, please tell Kaitlin to come sit with me. Now, dear,” I said calmly. I wanted the innocent girls near me immediately. There was no question in my voice. Josie returned shortly thereafter with her sister in tow.
“Sweetie, sit with George for a bit, okay? He’s a friend I wanted you to meet,” Josie said softly before handing Kaitlin’s backpack over to me.
“Are you hungry, Kaitlin?” I asked with a smile, and she nodded.
I turned to Josie, “Make it two.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied with a sideways glance, following my eyes. Her tension radiated outwards, Kaitlin noticing instantly.
“Jos, what’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing, girls. I’ll be right back,” I whispered as I rose from my booth bench, gently but forcefully pressed Josie’s shoulder until she fell into the warm seat. I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon, the grungy figure fidgeting more nervously as the clock ticked the seconds past.
No sound resulted from the soles of my shoes connecting with the floor, each step careful and measured, the motion outwardly appearing as nothing more than a man trudging to the shallow hallway containing restrooms. As I passed the grungy figure, I stepped sideways, already past his peripheral vision, until I spoke quietly from the opposite side of his barstool.
“Something wrong, friend?” I asked in a calm tone, but I spoke quickly, sharpening the first syllable purposefully.
Surprise can do two things. It can derail any train of thought or it can pull a hair trigger that single millimeter until the hammer drops. The latter was my goal, and the grungy figure spun on the barstool towards me, his right hand, brandishing a Beretta 9mm, emerged from inside a well-worn coat in an attempt to lodge a slug of lead under my skin. The semi-automatic firearm never pointed my direction, having stopped while pointing directly at the bar wall under the countertop, an intentional direction to protect the public, as my right fist closed around the wrist of the hand wielding the weapon while my fingertips jabbed painfully into the tendons on the soft underside, crippling the hand attached to it. In the same instant, my left arm arced outward and upward, the fingers latching onto the grungy figure’s greasy hair, the arc finishing when his face cracked against the countertop.
Once subdued in such a fashion, it required little effort to wrest the pistol from the grungy figure’s hand and jerk his greasy hair backwards until he toppled off the barstool, the back of his head audibly thumping the tiled floor. I couldn’t help but smile at the sound while I thoughtlessly emptied the chamber of the Beretta and slid the full clip into my open palm, quickly tucking both into my coat pocket and setting the pistol on the countertop.
I learned to expect the unexpected in the Service, but I certainly didn’t expect Josie’s arms clinging to me in that moment after my triumph over a common criminal. A fraction of a second after the grungy figure’s head bounced off the tiles, she sprinted across the diner and latched onto me, and in just as short a time released me, her hands wandering every reachable inch of my clothed body to check for injuries. I grasped her shaking hands in mine and brought them to my chin, the action forcing her attention upwards, her own chin lifting and her eyes settling on mine.
“Go call the police, sweetheart. I’m fine. Go,” I whispered with as tender a smile as I could manage.
The few patrons in the diner, oblivious to everything, barely noticed the physical exchange until the grungy figure’s skull cracked against the tile. Once understanding sank in only moments later, cell phones appeared from the nearest denizens, an offering to Josie. Even today I wonder why they didn’t dial 911 themselves. I’m told it was my commanding presence that directed them to follow orders and assist Josie in calling. Hands still shaking, she obediently retrieved one of the proffered devices to contact the authorities.
The conversation mattered little, so I grasped Josie’s free hand and ushered her back to Kaitlin, wanting her to feel the comfort of her sister nearby while I stood above the grungy figure. He wouldn’t be coherent enough to do much but groan, but diligence perseveres, so I remained close.
Sirens ricocheted off the surrounding buildings and flashing lights announced the arrival of several uniformed officers. Statements from every present body documented ‘the heroics of a stranger.’ Josie clutched my arm throughout the ordeal of recounting the events; adrenaline can do that. The ammunition from my coat pocket and the Beretta from the countertop clinked into a thick plastic bag before one of the officers scribbled a note on the label with a Sharpie and pushed through the rotating doorway and into the street to one of the squad cars.
Handshakes and respectful nods preceded the departure of the first responders. Shortly thereafter, I returned to my booth to find that Jorge, who spoke no English, had already delivered two patty melts with fries. I wondered later if he even knew why the police had been there, and if they cared that he was not legally occupying the role of Master Chef in the diner. I choose to believe he was thankful for his luck at going unnoticed.
“Eat, dear. It’ll calm your nerves,” I said to Kaitlin as she stared at the food before her, unsure of what to do with her eyes or hands in that moment, but she dutifully retrieved a French fry from the plate and nibbled it nervously. The taste on her lips was enough to spurn an empty tummy’s desire to fill to the brim. Jorge’s patty melts were quite good.
Josie glanced in our direction, at me and Kaitlin, over her shoulder, over the countertop from behind the bar and from the kitchen at every opportunity for the rest of the evening. I didn’t leave the diner until they closed, the owner insisting that they remain open to demonstrate his resolve, not letting a common criminal impede serving his hungry customers or his profits even though I knew the entire place had little more than $500 cash within its walls.
The drive to Josie’s house was short, her soft frame leaning against my side affectionately from the center of the bench seat in my rusty old Dodge pick-up while Kaitlin all but cowered against the passenger door. It wasn’t the violence that produced her fear of me; it was the pleased smile at the sound of the grungy figure’s cranium striking the floor. She saw in me a primal hunger for more of the same, and she hated me for it from that moment on. Even today she hates me for it though we speak often enough.
“George, help me get Kaitlin out of here. Please help me. She can’t live like this. She doesn’t deserve it, and I know you can help me save her,” Josie begged, almost babbling, the moon reflecting in her tears.
It was a chilly night of early Winter; her hands were shaking from the cold. Without thought, I shrugged my coat off and covered her in it, my hands gripping the seams and holding it closed against her chest. She tilted her head, caressing her cheek against the brown denim shoulder of the garment in the same way that Jenny did so many times when I wrapped her in my coat many years before that moment. My heart melted.
“I don’t know what I can do, sweetheart, but I promise you’ll both be okay,” I replied, tugging the unzipped seams of the coat forward so she fell against my chest with a girlish giggle. I knew she’d rush Kaitlin through the front door of their house and into her bedroom, I knew Kaitlin would quickly lock the numerous mechanisms from the inside, and I knew that Josie would find herself subject to the anger of her father, a man so much like my own dearly departed forebear. Furthermore, I knew she would be subject to the whims of his companions should any be present upon her arrival. I knew she would subject herself to a beating or rape, as she did most nights, to protect her sister. What Josie endured to safeguard Kaitlin’s innocence and bring forth her salvation was nothing short of hell. The memories of my foster hells paled in comparison.
Child Protective Services never removed the girls from their parents’ care. I never understood how two motherless teenage girls were deemed safe under the guardianship of an abusive, alcoholic trustee of modern chemistry for a father with numerous kindred spirits for family friends, but the state of California saw no reason to remove them. I did.
“Just take us with you, George. I’ll do anything you want, anything,” she said, the final word whispered as she resorted to the only method of persuasion she understood, a hand against the fly of my jeans.
“That won’t be necessary, Josie,” I said gently but firmly, pushing her hand away from my groin. “If I do this, Kaitlin will fear and hate me forever. You know that, right?”
“She’ll be safe, George. That’s all that matters. If she hates you for eternity, I’ll love you enough for both of us. She’s all that matters,” she said, a hint of anger in her quavering voice.
“You’re wrong, sweetheart. You matter just as much as she does,” I replied calmly. “I need you to understand that what I’m going to do eventually will be violent, but more importantly I need you to understand who I am. I run a prostitution outfit, Josie. I’m basically a pimp, no better than the animals you’re trying to escape.”
“No, George. You’re wrong. You’re not a pimp. Last week you told me about what you do, and I know being with you is the safest place on the planet. Kaitlin can hate you all she wants, but I love you!” she squealed, her eyes misting as she began and dribbling tears as she finished, shoulders jumping from the force of gentle sobs.
“Okay, okay, shhhhh, little one,” I cooed, my nose pressed into her soft hair and my lips pressing a soft kiss against the top of her head. “You know you don’t have to work for me to pay any debts. If I take you home with me, it’s because there are two girls that need help, not because I want to sell you. There’s a reason my girls call me Daddy.”
“I know, Daddy,” she whispered. It was all I needed to hear. Josie pried herself from my arms with a strength of will I’ve rarely seen in anyone, dried her eyes on the sleeve of my coat and strode confidently towards the truck, Kaitlin staring through the window at the scene and shivering despite the running engine and warm air blowing noisily through the old vents. I could not understand the words, but I knew the direction of the conversation. Josie was telling Kaitlin that they were going to a new home, to live with me, and Kaitlin was protesting out of fear. It was the one time I ever saw Josie raise a hand to her baby sister, but it quieted the girl’s objections.
Once Kaitlin understood, even if only partially, that her future was under my control, she cried, but she did so quietly while Josie held her. The minutes seemed like hours as I steered the truck towards home, the only words spoken by any of us being a quick call to Kirin and Jenny to announce visitors, the purpose of the call meant to make the house presentable to innocent eyes.
After such a dauntingly eventful night, Josie and Kaitlin succumbed to exhaustion. The grand tour of their new home could wait until morning. After a quick introduction to Kirin and Jenny, the girls were quickly ushered into a comfortable bedroom on the far eastern wing of the large house, given fresh toiletries, clean sheets and bid goodnight. Josie glanced longingly into my eyes as Jenny closed the door, but I knew Kaitlin needed her that night. Questions needed to wait for morning.
“Is that them, Daddy?” Kirin whispered, Jenny turning to face us after locking the bedroom door to secure our visitors for the night.
“Yes, baby, that’s them,” I replied with a nod, my fingertips caressing Kirin’s cheek, her head tilting to the side to nuzzle against my palm. “She finally asked.”
“Daddy, Kaitlin can’t stay here. She’s terrified of you,” Jenny stated firmly.
“I know,” I said, again nodding, this time in resignation. “If she’ll let me, or rather if Josie can convince her, I want to put her into a private school.”
“I like that idea,” Kirin offered. “Maybe I could talk to her in the morning.”
“It might help,” Jenny and I said together.
That night our home was as chaste as the Cleavers’. Even the most insatiable of my girls knows how to behave when we have visitors. I settled at the bar off the kitchen while Jenny fixed a bologna and mustard sandwich, setting it before me along with a Bud Light while Kirin scooped tiny portions of Neopolitan into two bowls. A third bowl found itself occupied by ice cream, also, as Byte joined us.
“Are they here?” she asked in a whisper as if she were revealing a secret. Everyone nodded. Byte clapped and nibbled her ice cream off the tip of a spoon and causing me to smile at her adorable mannerisms.
“We were just discussing Kaitlin’s reaction to Daddy,” Jenny said. “What did you do to scare the hell out of her, anyway?”
“There was a robber at the diner tonight, girls. I had to put him down,” I explained.
“You enjoyed it, didn’t you? That’s why she’s so scared,” Byte sighed. “Daddy, I love you just as much as any girl here, but god damn it you need to learn to control that. She thinks you’re just like them.” She spat the last word, and we all knew she meant the monsters from which we were saving them both.
“Byte, be nice,” Jenny warned.
“I’m sorry. It’s just so frustrating that anyone could be afraid of him, ya know?” Byte sighed again. “He only hurts the people that deserve it. Why shouldn’t it feel good to punish evil?”
No one spoke for several minutes while the sound of Kirin stroking Byte’s shoulders with her fingernails lightened the tension with Jenny sitting nearby in quiet contemplation. Sweet treats, bologna and beer last only so long under the pressure of nerves and hunger, so I busied myself rinsing the dishes and setting them onto the drying rack nearby. Byte excused herself to bed after offering tender kisses to Jenny, Kirin and me. I pinched her butt to elicit a giggle as she hurried off to bed.
“Well, a little sleep sounds like a good idea,” I said in mid yawn.
“Definitely,” Jenny said. “Candi, Lily and Aspen are curled up in your bed.”
“Sounds warm. Please make sure everyone behaves in the morning, girls. We don’t need a repeat of Kirin’s first breakfast,” I said, smiling but serious.
“Don’t worry, Daddy. I won’t let any of your dirty whores make them uncomfortable,” Kirin said with a chuckle. She offered me her tongue in a deep kiss, repeated the loving gesture with Jenny and padded off to bed. She slept alone back then.
Breakfast was an adventure. Josie gazed wide-eyed at the number of new faces rushing through the dining hall with their mealtime choices filling plates and bowls, everyone smiling and bidding a good morning to the guests, and to my delight, they were all dressed. Kaitlin was thankfully more relaxed that morning. I learned much later that it was because she saw nothing but smiles from anyone in the house that first day and received nothing but kindness. She detests me to this day, but she adores the girls and, oddly enough, seems to appreciate their Brothers or at least doesn’t despise and fear them.
“No! I don’t want anything from you! You’re just like them!” Kaitlin yelled into my face, fists balled up in anger. Her relaxation ended the moment I asked to speak with her and Josie in the courtyard.
“You’re right, Kaitlin. I am very much like them in many ways, but the difference, the important difference, is that I don’t beat or rape your sister,” I rejoined calmly.
“Oh, sure, you offer to send me off to some cultist lesbian school so you can brainwash my sister into being your whore? No! No! No!” she screamed.
“Kaitlin, what the fuck is wrong with you? He’s trying to help us! Didn’t you see all those girls in there? They’re happy. Do they look like they’re forced to suck some random guy’s cock for money because this guy threatened to slit their throats? Is that what you think?” Josie hissed back. She was getting angry at her sister’s presumptuous judgments.
“Well, no, not like that. It’s just wrong, okay? It’s against the law,” Kaitlin sighed.
“It’s a lesser of two evils, sweetie. Pop’s friends rape me four nights a week, Pop slaps the shit out of me all the time. Is it really that bad that these girls get paid to fuck? Hell, I’d feel a lot better about myself if Pop’s bastard friends bothered to toss me a twenty once in a while, especially after hammering my ass until I couldn’t walk the next morning.”
Kaitlin simply nodded and said, “I won’t ever like him, Jos. He’s evil, not like them, but he’s evil.”
“No, he’s not, sweetie. You don’t see what I do,” Josie replied. “He lives by a different set of rules, but he’s not evil. I’m not asking you to like him, love him or ever want to see him again. There’s no Christmas visit obligation here. He’s offering to pay for your education because he wants to help you, us. I’m not going to fuck him to pay for it, either. I know you’re thinking that, so don’t. He said he wants to put you through school so you can have a better future.”
“It’s true, Kaitlin,” Kirin said quietly from behind. “He did the same for me once. I was a lot like you, Josie, doing everything I could to protect someone I loved. I waited and waited and waited to ask George for help. I waited until it was too late. My baby sister, Annie, my Kaitlin, wandered out of the bedroom to find me. She wanted her midnight cuddles like we did every night, and she wandered into a volatile situation. I won’t horrify you with the details, but I watched my mother’s boyfriend and my mother’s drug dealer rape and beat Annie. She died in the ambulance from head trauma.”
I don’t know how Kirin told the brief tale without a tear, but neither Kaitlin nor Josie bothered to control the flow of their own. Kirin knelt before Kaitlin as she related the nightmare, grasping the girl’s hands in her own. I watched realization and understanding grace the pretty teenager’s face.
“That’s why he enjoys it so much, isn’t it?” Kaitlin asked, her watery eyes shaking as she stared into Kirin’s soul from above.
“It is, love. Those men deserved what George did to them,” Kirin said, her lip quivering not in sadness, but anger, even if only for a moment.
“Why do you live here, then? Why do you whore yourself out to pay for his mansion?” Kaitlin asked, the presumptuous judgment returning. Kirin already knew her response before the question entered the teen’s mind.
“Why did you masturbate in the shower this morning, Kaitlin? Oh, don’t you dare try to deny it, pretty girl. I know you did, and I know you did it because it feels good. You know about sex because you’ve seen what those men have done to your sister, and while I know you understand that she felt no pleasure from being taken against her will, it aroused your curiosity about sex, about what your womanly parts are for. I know that Josie explained that touching yourself is okay, and I know that you do it often. That’s why I’m here. George put me through school until I was eighteen. He never touched me, not once, not until I was an adult. Even then I had to practically beg him to touch me the first time. We’re all here because we want to be. Do I feel like I owe him something for saving me and avenging Annie? Yes, I do. But all I owe him, all he wants from me, is love. Sex feels good, Kaitlin, and I fuck George quite often, but it’s not because of what he did for me and Annie, well at least not payment for it. I can’t lie to you and say that what he did for me and my baby sister isn’t a huge part of why I love him. I love him for who he is. I fuck him silly as often as I can get him to myself, but I get paid to fuck other men because I enjoy sex enough to capitalize on rich guys that want to have some fun.”
“I … that makes sense. It’s twisted, but I get it,” Kaitlin sighed. “I don’t want Josie to end up being a whore just to put me through school, you know?”
“She won’t, sweetie. That’s not what this is about. We call him Daddy here, all of us do, because he loves us unconditionally like your father should have,” Kirin explained. “If we don’t want to play, we don’t. If we don’t want to work, we don’t. I could ask him right this minute to write a check to put me in school so I can be a doctor and never see him again. And you know what? He’d do it without a second’s hesitation. But Kaitlin, you need to understand something very important today. George wants to help you get through high school, okay? Where you go after that may be entirely up to you. If you want to go to college, we can help, Josie and me or any of the other girls if we choose, but he won’t, not unless you ask. Once you’re an adult, you have to make your own way or ask for help. I can see in your eyes that today, right now, you know you’ll never, ever ask for his help even though you’re going to go to that private school and get your diploma. In a few years, when you’re ready to go out into the world and start college, maybe you’ll have changed your mind a bit. You might come to me and ask for help paying for college, you might call your sister and maybe, just maybe you’ll come visit us here and ask Daddy for help. It doesn’t matter, precious. What matters is that you live to see your eighteenth birthday. That’s why Josie brought you here. We can make sure you see that day, and after that, well, that’s up to you.”
Kaitlin listened intently; Josie hung on every word. I stood motionless to the side, proud of Kirin for her strength. She got through to the girl, and that’s all that mattered in that moment.
“What about Josie?” Kaitlin asked after a long moment.
“That’s up to her, sweetie. She’s an adult, so where she goes is her choice. I can tell you now that she’s falling in love with George. She’s going to stay here and probably end up working, getting paid to have sex with strangers,” Kirin said bluntly.
“I know,” Kaitlin sighed again. Resignation was her most common facial feature that day.
“But she’ll be happy, Kaitlin,” Kirin whispered, pressing a fingertip against the teen’s chin to raise her attention and delicately force eye contact. “Your sister wants to be here. She wants to feel safe and loved. She understands, like I do, that some people deserve to be punished. What you fear in George, she respects. What you hate in George, she admires. You’re allowed to have your beliefs, but I hope you won’t hold anything against your sister because her beliefs are different.”
“I don’t. I couldn’t ever,” Kaitlin responded, turning to Josie. “I don’t care what you do as long as you’re happy and safe, Jos. You deserve it so much. I love you so much.”
With the final words, Kaitlin launched herself onto her sister and clung to her neck, sobbing uncontrollably. Kirin’s goals that morning were to help the girl understand the world and to let out the emotions bottled up for so long, buried deep inside from fear of the world, fear of everything except her sister. Kirin succeeded, and she rose from her knees to grasp my hand and lead me away.
“That went well,” I said, unsure of what else to say.
“It worked, Daddy. She won’t run to the police to report us for what we do, she still loves her sister and she’ll be going to school soon,” Kirin replied. “Unfortunately, she’ll hate you forever. I hope she doesn’t figure out where you’re going tonight. It’ll only compound her hatred.”
“How do you know where I’m going tonight?” I asked, wondering what her response would be but not questioning that she knew my plans.
“Daddy, you can’t hide your intentions from some of us. You forget that I’ve seen this look in your eyes before, the night I asked for your help,” she said seriously. “I want to ask a favor, though.”
“Hmm?” I inquired, raising an eyebrow and giving her a curious look.
“Will you leave their father alone, Daddy?” Kirin asked, stopping mid-stride to face me, to center her gaze.
“I need a reason, Kirin. You know that,” I stated firmly.
“The reason is simple. Josie, as much as she hates that piece of shit, still loves him. She’s incapable of letting go like that. After everything I said, she knows you’re going to visit some of the men that hurt her, and she knows you’re going to hurt them. She doesn’t need to see her father’s name on the news tomorrow. It will crush her. Kaitlin will hate you no matter what, and she doesn’t care about her father anyway. Josie, though, she can’t take that,” Kirin explained. My rule with Jenny holds firm even today – you have the opportunity to sway me by stating your case.
“I’ll trust you on this one, honey,” I said, nodding. “You know them better than I do at this point.”
“I always will, Daddy,” Kirin chirped with a smile and peck on my cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, angel,” I replied.
“How old was Annie, Kirin?” Josie asked with a frown, wanting to know more about someone so much like herself.
“She was nine. I was Kaitlin’s age, fourteen,” Kirin responded. “Back then I was called Jenn. That name died with my sister.”
“I like Kirin better, anyway,” Josie smiled.
“I still think about her constantly, and I talk to her every morning. I don’t know if spirits are real, if the dead can hear us, but if she can, I always want her to know how much I love her and miss her,” Kirin sighed, a lone tear rolling down her cheek.
“I think she knows. I can’t believe there’s nothing after life. Think about it, about nothing. True nothingness. You can’t because our minds aren’t capable of comprehending a lack of anything. Even the word, mankind giving the idea a name, ‘nothing, ‘ is proof. We can’t imagine it because it doesn’t exist,” Josie offered in a gentle tone.
“I like that,” Kirin said with a broad smile. “Come on. Let’s go find Daddy. You have a couple things to do today.”
“Like what?” Josie asked, quickly dismissing the thought of sexual favors that flashed through her imagination.
“Like picking a name, dear heart. The animals you left behind call you Josie. We want to know the real you, and a name is the first step,” Kirin stated matter-of-factly while clutching the hand of her new friend. They found me in my office analyzing a customer’s interview and profile.
“Hi, Daddy,” Kirin chirped. Josie blushed with a childlike wave but remained silent.
“Hello, my loves. What’s up?” I responded.
“Josie needs to pick her new name, and I wanted to see if I can help get the paperwork together for her guardianship fight,” Kirin said.
“Wait, guardianship? You mean of Kaitlin?” Josie asked with a confused expression appearing on her pretty face.
“Yes, of Kaitlin. I can pay for her education, but I can’t authorize it. She needs a legal guardian, and we’re going to help you get custody from your father,” I explained. “Kirin, I’d like you to take Josie to meet Jim today. He’s expecting you at three.”
“Sounds good. I still need to know how to introduce her, though. Jim should meet the real her so we can start the paperwork on changing her name, too,” Kirin said as she reached into a tiny office refrigerator to retrieve bottles of water for everyone.
“I agree. Josie,” I said, turning to her, “what would you like to be called? What is your real name?”
Her face crinkled adorably as she pondered a reply, the moment of truth bringing forth a spark in her soul that I would come to cherish.
“Ocean,” she said simply.
“Why?” I asked without thought.
“I love water, the feel of it, the connection to it, the idea that it’s what makes up most of what we are. When I dream of my heaven, it’s on a beach looking out at the seas, and when I imagine the day I leave this world, I know that I want my ashes spread at sea,” she forcefully responded. If I felt the need to argue, it would have diminished under the conviction of her tone.
“I love it. Ocean. It fits,” Kirin clapped, borrowing Byte’s most common expression of glee, waiting to react until I nodded assent.
“Well, that’s settled. Ocean, welcome home,” I said, spreading my arms to gesture at the property as a whole, the family’s home, her family’s home, her home.
Ocean didn’t speak in that moment, instead choosing to cling to Kirin’s arm and lean against her friend. I gestured for the girls to join me at the desk, Kirin perching atop my desk and pulling Ocean backwards against her, holding her. I presented Ocean with the paperwork for both her guardianship claim and her name change along with several print-outs of relevant laws and regulations.
“I recommend you study quickly. You need to meet with Jim in a couple hours, and the more prepared you are, the more he can prepare you for the battle. The name change is easy, but removing your sister from the legal custody of your father will be difficult since CPS hasn’t seen the need to remove her themselves,” I said, my voice deepening.
“Yes, sir,” Ocean replied.
“Come on, dear heart. Let’s go find Kaitlin and save her from all these dirty bitches. I’m sure they’re torturing her with vibrators and handcuffs,” Kirin giggled.
Weeks passed uneventfully, most of the girls working when clients called, Ocean settling into a level of comfort while Kaitlin uncomfortably survived the days leading up to orientation. The Academy diligently maintained an excellent reputation for developing strength of character and thorough education. Kaitlin’s future, thanks to the Academy, held great promise. Ocean secured her enrollment hours following the custody hearing, which she won not because of Jim, but because of the strength of her convictions and the depth of her love. The presiding judge asked Ocean about the name change she finalized only days before, and her response impressed him. She offered her name as homage to the love of her sister, the depth of it and the endless expanse of it. It was her love – the heart of an Ocean – that swayed the judge, the man obviously reluctant to remove a child from a terrible, yet not legally unfit, father. In the evening, the first evening without Kaitlin, Ocean urged me to help her explore consensual sex, first crawling into my bed and awakening me with a start.
“You don’t have to do this, Ocean. This isn’t why you’re here,” I whispered, lifting to lean against the headboard and look into the eyes of a nude, voluptuous young woman, ignoring her nudity.
“I’m not here to thank you. I need to know what it feels like to make love to a man, not be raped by one. Help me let go of my anger and fear and hatre…” she began, but my lips halted her pleas. All I need is a reason.
She squeaked her surprise as I gently yanked her into my arms before sinking into muffled whimpers, nerves melting as she nursed lovingly on my tongue, my hands caressing her shoulders, cheeks, hair, anything above her collar bones. Her tiny hands shoved against my chest until she fell backwards, not in disgust, but to gasp for air while hunger flared in her eyes. The scent of her arousal wafted upwards, my own hunger growing, my mouth watering. I couldn’t tell you how long I feasted on her delicate, womanly flower, but I gave her something she never knew existed, not like this. Pleasure.
I guided her to sprawl across the bed, on her back, and I draped myself over her, relishing in the feel of her chubby, pliant body wrapping around me. She expected penetration, my manhood dispatching her emotional hymen, but first I had to show her how I pleasure my girls, always, before I seek my own release. I whispered my adoration between soft, licking kisses as my lips traveled the length of her body, winking at her from below. Her nipples, immensely long and thick, hardened between my lips as I suckled tenderly, caressing them with my tongue while my hands caressed her hips and thighs, the girl not knowing what to do and deciding to close her eyes and moan her approval. I rose to taste her tongue once more for a long moment before against kissing the length of her upper body, this time passing by her nipples to swipe my tongue repeatedly through the crevice underneath her heavy breasts, savoring the flavor of her womanly, and slightly sweaty, flesh which made her giggle, causing the shapely layers of fat on her tummy to jiggle beautifully and again when I flicked my tongue into her bellybutton.
When my kisses neared her silky folds, my lips detoured to her soft, thick thighs, nibbling, kissing and sucking the pale flesh all the way to the crux of her pelvic region, again swiping my tongue through the crevices that held the sweaty musk of a woman’s body after a long day without bathing. It was an intoxicating flavor, one that I cannot accurately describe; words aren’t enough, but intoxicating is enough.
“Christ you’re beautiful,” I whispered, my eyes drinking in the sight of her thick, dark pubic hair and the deep cleft of her charms, thick, meaty inner lips not peeking out but protruding from between the fatty folds of her outer lips. To this day I’ve never seen a woman with such large, succulent folds, for they were enormous, wrinkled flaps of sexual heaven. She gasped, moaned and writhed in pleasure as I made love to her flower with my mouth, lips and tongue, even my teeth, though gently. Her first orgasm rushed through her body, her reaction introducing me to the sensation of her soft, thick thighs squeezing my head, her fingertips clawing delicately at my scalp while I mercilessly attacked her clit with firm suction and incessant strokes of my tongue, grinding the velvety muscle against the inch-long, three-quarter inch thick nub.
“Stop! Stop, Daddy, I can’t take it,” she gasped.
I reluctantly obeyed and released her love button, offering her a smile between her heaving breasts before nuzzling my nose against her pubic mound, reveling in the feel of her silky muff tickling me.
“I want you inside me. Please, please make love to me,” she begged.
I willingly obliged, rising along her body to offer her my tongue and a taste of her feminine musk which she accepted hungrily. I retrieved my tongue before she swallowed it, chuckling at her enthusiasm as she blushed. I guided the head of my achingly erect manhood to her opening, sighing with pleasure as those meaty folds of her sex kissed the tip. She fidgeted and tried with her hands and legs to pull me forward, her instinct of getting me off as quickly as possible taking hold of her.
“Not like that, Ocean. Never again,” I whispered, gazing into her eyes, my strength overpowering her nearly frantic urgency. She nodded and relaxed her muscles, her entire body, and she sank into the mattress with the look of an obedient, subdued submissive on her face.
I let gravity pull me into her tunnel, groaning for her benefit as much as from my own pleasure at the sensation of her astoundingly tight entrance. Her eyes filled with tears as her smile lit the moonlit room even brighter, and I filled her completely after a single agonizingly slow stroke. When the spongy head of my member prodded her cervix, she exhaled deeply and sucked in a sharp breath of pleasured surprise as I jerked my hips just an inch to let her feel me move inside her.
My eyes never left her sapphire gems, lost in their depths, as I made love to her that night, sawing into and back out of her silken tunnel with full, steady strokes. We felt no urgency, and the rapidity – or lack of it – of the repetitious stroking conveyed it to her as much as her own relaxation radiated from her core. I lost count of her orgasms after the third, her body tensing, her breath catching in her throat as she twitched. I began to feel the urgency of my own orgasm as her next words of the passionate session escaped her lips.
“Cum for me, Daddy. Fill your baby up that creamy spunk. Give your fat piglet a beautiful bastard,” she growled.
Moments later, after several powerful, rapid thrusts to bring me that last tick of pleasure, I inseminated her womb. Not to be crude, but it felt like I was pissing my ejaculate into her as the contractions in my heavy sack seemed never to end. All the while she writhed beneath me, the eroticism and emotion of the moment triggering another release that she adoringly called a love-gasm for the rest of her short life.
I collapsed atop her fluffy form, her arms clinging to my neck and her legs clinging to my waist. We fell asleep in that position, my manhood still buried inside her; she held me throughout the night, unwilling to let go of that moment until necessity forced it. Necessity came with the rising of the sun as Kirin knocked quietly to see how Ocean’s first night, her coming of age in a way, fared. I awoke to the sound of the knock and bare feet swishing the carpet to find Ocean gazing at me from below, a content, happy daze in her eyes while her fingertips explored my shoulders, neck and hair.
“Good morning, Daddy,” she whispered.
“Good morning, piglet,” I replied, pecking the tip of her nose with my lips which elicited a giggle and a gentle push against my shoulders. She was Ocean to us all now, but she was forevermore my piglet, a name she gave herself in the throes of passion and a name I adored always.
I rose, amazed that my manhood slipped from her so easily amidst her sighs; she was still slick with arousal. She rolled to her side and kicked her legs over the edge of the bed, wincing as her vagina ached with a dull throbbing. Kirin awaited the invitation before inching forward, gaining courage as Ocean smiled, hands clutching her belly, sore from exertion after achieving so many orgasms. Kirin sank to her knees, all smiles, and gripped Ocean’s tiny hands in her own.
“A warm bath helps, dear heart. I have one waiting for you down the hall. Come on,” she whispered, rising from her knees and gently tugging Ocean onto her feet to guide her to the bathroom just down the hallway. Both girls beamed at me over their shoulders as they departed, but I needed a hot shower to soothe the aches of sleeping in such an unusual position, also.
I finished the tale of Ocean’s rescue and salvation whilst perched atop a bulkhead on a rented yacht and gazing at the faces of all my girls, their brothers, all of us. The entire family was there. Kirin’s strength triumphed; she was able to assist in sharing this tale, recalling details and most importantly remembering every word exactly, especially from the first days with Ocean. Cadence curled around her feet for most of the afternoon, occasionally slinking away to offer affection to the saddest of the group, the saddest of the moment, but she always returned to Kirin’s feet.
“Ocean’s wish was to spend eternity swimming the seas, so today we, I, must let her go,” Kirin said as she rose with a sapphire marbled urn tucked into the crook of her elbow. Tears flowed freely from her gray eyes as she removed the threaded lid, a sprinkling of Ocean’s ashes puffing away in the wind. It must have been dust of Ocean’s remains tucked into the threads, but Kirin took it as a sign from Ocean herself that this was right and good, Ocean herself displaying her excitement at the place of her eternity.
“God I miss you. Be free, my love,” Kirin whispered after untying the plastic encasing Ocean and then peeling back the opening, shaking the urn into the wind and watching Ocean drift away into the currents, peppering the waves and swirling into the depths.
She collapsed shortly after scattering the ashes of her soul mate, sobbing violently, screaming her rage and heartbreak between gasps for air. The pain in those sounds will haunt me forever. The whole in Kirin’s heart will never fill again, not completely. Every eyelid blinked away tears of their own as they watched the scene, most unable to move aside from nervous twitches and quiet sobs. I heard many of the girls sigh a final goodbye to her sister, heard the encouraging support of their Brothers, watched everyone try in vain to soothe someone close to them.
Cadence, in the most human of her abilities, cradled Kirin in her arms, whispering things I can only imagine and knowing nothing I could say would mean anything in that moment. No one lost more than Kirin that day, but Cadence came in close second, at least that’s the way it would be if losing half of your heart were a competition.
The story of Ocean’s life sparked questions from the girls that barely knew her, but everyone wanted to know more about their fallen sister. Kirin answered most of them; I answered what I could. But after Ocean left us forever to explore the briny deep, after the initial shock and goodbyes, no words were spoken by any of the family. Kirin’s sobs dwindled to hushed sniffles, her eyes having no more tears to spend. The luxury vessel charted a course for home, even the captain, a stranger, wiping his eyes as he interrupted me regretfully to inquire if it were time to return to port. I could only nod, knowing the diluted potency of my voice wouldn’t help anyone feel better.
At this point, I won’t tell you much about how Ocean died. Your imagination can fill in the details. All you need to know is that Ocean died the way Annie died, raped and beaten by animals, eleven of them. They abducted her coming home from a visit with Kaitlin on parent-teacher day. Even the late hours couldn’t stop her from getting to Kirin, so she stopped at a well-lit gas station to pick up something with caffeine, probably a Starbucks something or other. It was nothing more than a wrong place, wrong time type of night, for them as much as Ocean.
I have GPS installed on every vehicle we own, and Kirin of all people watches them quite often, and on that night, the blinking dot on her monitor was her Ocean. I couldn’t tear her away from it for all my physical power. She alerted me that Ocean’s car hadn’t moved in fifteen minutes. She allowed that much time in case it was a fill-up on gas, a drink and a potty break since convenience store stops can take several minutes. At fifteen minutes, something could be wrong, so Kirin notified me while dialing Ocean’s cell.
Without a bubbly voice bidding hello, only voicemail, I hurtled the sofas, unhinged the solid oak door and left half of my tires on the driveway. I keep my speediest vehicle parked closest, a Ferrari that night.
A common criminal’s greatest flaw is usually stupidity, and tonight it helped me find them because they not only took Ocean but her car as well. Kirin and Byte directed me, cell phone on speaker. As I approached a dilapidated, condemned building, an old factory of some sort, I killed the engine and lights, coasting to a stop as close as I dared. After exiting the vehicle, I retrieved some necessary weapons from the trunk. Satisfied with my selections of blade and firearms, I scouted the vicinity quickly, choosing a fire escape to enter through a second story window hanging open and broken.
The next part is hazy in my memory. I saw Ocean, bloodied and broken, but still breathing on an oily concrete surface with eleven Mexican gangbangers jabbering in excited Spanish, laughing. My vision tinted red, and I was among them, hurling myself from the landing into their midst. As I said, stupidity is a common criminal’s most universal flaw. They chose to stay and fight, which was all the better for me. I suffered a couple wounds to non-vital areas of my body, a slit on my shoulder, a shallow puncture in my belly. I quickly rendered them unconscious, all still breathing, while I knelt beside Ocean.
I don’t know how she saw me through the swollen flesh shielding her eyes from the world, maybe she sensed me. A part of me died with her as her last breath offered the only words she could muster, her voice broken and croaking but audible.
“Kirin … Daddy … love…”
By the time the authorities arrived, Ocean lay dead in my arms while the Mexican thugs roused. They were quickly arrested, of course, but that wasn’t enough for me. The law is very clear about how to handle such a situation. Let the cops do the arresting, let the medical examiner pronounce the victim dead, give your statement and go home. Let the courts punish the criminals while you mourn. Let them rehabilitate under the care of the state’s penal system.
Yeah, right. I posted bail for all of them anonymously with cash when I learned the courts didn’t feel they were dangerous enough to hold for more than a few days.
THE END OF CHAPTER TWO