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Subject: {ASSM} "Fourteen" {Kinnik} (M/f, rape, inc, tort, snuff) [1/2]
Date: Fri, 21 Jan 2000 20:10:03 -0500
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Kinnik has asked me to post these stories ("Anne", "Park" and
"Fourteen"). They are simple-plotted, straight-forward tales of
misogyny and murder. Some of you may know him through his earlier
piece "New Dawn".
If anyone has a copy of that one, please mail it to my address:
Master Sardu . I will forward it to Kinnik,
who unfortunately lost his own copy.
M.S.
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: WARNING! The following story contains graphic
depictions of extreme violence, rape, torture and murder.
The events and characters depicted therein are ENTIRELY FICTICIOUS.
Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events
is purely coincidental.
IF YOU ARE UNDER THE LEGAL AGE ACCORDING TO YOUR COUNTRY'S LAW,
IF STORIES OF THE DESCRIBED NATURE ARE ILLEGAL OR MAY BE LEGALLY
DEEMED OBSCENE IN YOUR LOCAL JURISDICTION, OR IF SUCH MATERIAL
OFFENDS YOU, DO NOT READ OR DOWNLOAD THIS STORY!
* * * * *
NOTE: I AM NOT THE AUTHOR OF THIS STORY. I AM POSTING IT AT REQUEST
AND BY PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR. Copyright (c) 1999 by Kinnik.
Fourteen
Stan came home feeling no pain. His wife had been out of town for
nearly a week and she wouldn't be back for at least another. This
meant he was free to do as he wished, for a change, or almost. He
still had to take care of his daughter Trisha. But she was fourteen
now, almost a woman. She was growing up fast and probably enjoyed her
mother's absence as much as Stan did.
He tried not to make too much noise as he unlocked the front door and
stumbled into the hallway. As he moved towards the living room he
heard sounds coming from upstairs. He moved towards it with the
thought that it might be an intruder, but as he climbed the stairs he
realized it was coming from Trisha's room. Damn, it was past one in
the morning and she was still up! She wouldn't have tried that if her
mother had been home. But her dad was usually less strict, leaving her
mother in charge of discipline. He'd better let her know he wouldn't
put up with that kind of behavior, he thought blearily, or she would
run wild every time her mother was away.
He reached her door and shoved it open with a bang, partly to surprise
her and give her a little scare and partly because in his current
state he miscalculated how hard he should push the door. It flew open,
startling Trisha and making her jump up with alarm. Then she saw it
was just her father and relaxed a little, although she knew she would
be in some trouble for having stayed up.
"What do you think you're doing, young lady?" he said, trying to sound
sober. As she had jumped up from the bed he had time to notice just
how much she really had grown up. Like her mother she was developing a
sexy figure, young with curvy hips and nice round little tits which he
could see clearly outlined against her tiny tee. She was wearing hip-
hugging khakis, leaving her midriff exposed. Damn, she looked good, he
thought. Better than her mother ever had.
"I was just reading. I didn't realize it was that late. Sorry!" She
was looking at him with the mild defiance of any teenager caught doing
something wrong.
He stepped forward and closed the bedroom door. "Sorry ain't good
enough. You'd never try this with your mother here. And you're going
to have to start giving me the respect a father deserves. Understood?"
Trisha frowned. She could tell now that he was drunk, and she hadn't
seen him drunk before. Tipsy at parties now and then, but not like
this. He seemed to be angry as well, although she was telling the
truth and had simply been reading ...but her bedtime was 11 O'clock.
"OK, I'm sorry. Geez!"
"I'm not just talking about your bedtime. What the hell do you think
you're wearing? You look like a fucking slut!" Stan glowered at her.
"Take that off and put some decent clothes on, right now. I'm burning
those clothes!"
"What! You're kidding, right? Mom bought me these pants." She had also
never heard her dad swearing before except when he hurt himself in the
toolshed. Had she really heard him say "slut"?
"Well, your mother obviously doesn't know a shit about clothes ...and
I KNOW she didn't buy you that shirt. I can see your tits through it!"
Trisha's eyes widened and she stepped back. This was getting a little
out of hand, her father was acting really weird and it was starting to
scare her a little.
"OK, I'll throw them out or you can burn them if you want to. I'm
sorry!"
"Are you even listening to me? Take them off this instant!"
"Now? Alright, alright!" She stood there waiting for her father to
leave. When she made no move to undress he stepped forward and grabbed
her arm. "Are you DEAF? Off NOW!"
"Ouch! Dad, I was GOING to ...I'm waiting for you to leave." She
twisted away and started to cry a little now, rubbing her arm and
staring at the stranger that was her father. "OK... I'm doing it, just
leave so I can change."
Stan felt strangely excited watching his daughter's scared and
confused face. He wasn't sure exactly what he was doing, he'd been
thinking - if you wanted to call it thinking - that he wanted to see
if Trisha's tits looked like her mother's and his still inebriated
mind had thought this was a wonderful way to get a look. Now things
were getting a little out of control but he wanted to see them even
more, now that he was all worked up. And he couldn't very well back
down and lose face, could he?
"Did I hear correctly? Are you giving the orders now? I'm your fucking
father, I don't need to leave for you to undress. Now one last time
before I smack you, get that outfit off!"
"OK, will you at least turn around?"
Stan raised his hand and smacked her across the face. She wasn't
expecting that and it knocked her sideways onto the bed.
"I said: 'One last time', bitch!"
Trisha was crying in earnest now, her father had not hit her since she
was a very small girl, and then only twice. Her cheek burned where the
back of his hand had struck her. She pulled her shirt off as quickly
as she could and looked at him pleadingly, hoping that would be enough
and she wouldn't have to remove the pants. She was beginning to fear
where that might lead to in his current mood.
Stan watched with mounting excitement as his daughter removed the
flimsy shirt with trembling fingers, while glancing fearfully at him.
Once it was off she stopped and looked at him, clearly not eager to
remove the pants. He said nothing and nodded at her to go on. She
straightened herself to a sitting position and began taking the pants
off. It involved a fair amount of wriggling cause they were quite
tight. Finally she was on the bed with only a pair of pink cotton
panties on. Her crying had slowed down a little.
"I'm sorry, Daddy!" She made a bundle of the clothes and handed them
to him.
He took them from her, walked to the door, opened it and tossed them
out. Then he closed it and turned around. He could feel his hard cock
bulging in his pants at the sight of his naked little slut. He was
still telling himself it was all harmless, though. He smiled
indulgently at her.
"Isn't that better. Sorry I hit you Trish, I was down at the bar, and
well you know..." he chuckled.
Trisha was still scared by the whole event and embarrassed to be naked
in front of her dad, but at least it was over she guessed. "It's OK.
I'm sorry, Daddy!"
"That's OK." He walked over to where she was and sat down beside her
on the bed. "Here give me a good-night kiss." He leaned forward and
Trisha moved back slightly in alarm. She was still naked and her
father wasn't the kiss good-night type. He already had his arms around
her and he brought his face up to hers and began giving her an open
mouthed kiss. She tensed and tried to move back but he tightened his
grip and used his weight to push her down onto the bed.
"Hmmmmmph!" She squirmed under him and moved her head to one side. He
moved one hand to grope her tits and began kissing her neck.
"C'mon. Kiss daddy, Trish!"
"Daddeeee, nooo!" She gave a heave and tried to move out from under
him. Stan chuckled and half pushed, half lifted her all the way onto
the bed, following her before she could move to the other side,
pinning her down with his weight. He put one hand over her mouth,
unbuckled his belt and undid his fly with the other. His mind was a
red fog of excitement now, the warm flesh of his daughter under him
his motivaton. He pulled his throbbing erection out and rubbed it on
his little girls smooth stomach. She struggled under him and her head
slipped slightly under his hand, letting out a muffled plea that made
him even hotter.
"Don't worry, daddy's coming, baby." He murmured and pulled her
underwear down and out of the way. He separated her thighs with his
knee and pressed his dick against her slit. It was warm and soft and
incredibly tight. He pushed it in, slowly but firmly, and felt it
trembling around his cockhead. Then he thrust it into her unwilling
hole, slowly feeling the tightness part and meet resistance. It was
heaven and he felt it nearly bursting right there. He wanted to make
it last but he was drunk and too aroused, so he thrust forward busting
her cherry and making her whimper under the gag of his hand. He pumped
his cock into her virgin fuckhole hard and fast until he couldn't take
it anymore and climaxed, his mind exploding in orgasm and his cock
flooding her womb with his sibling seed.
"Oh good god!" He moaned. He layed on top of her with a sigh of
contentment for a minute before his senses began returning to him. He
was sobering up a little, now that the initial rush was gone and a
sense of dread began to overcome him and he realized what he had done.
His hand was no longer covering her mouth and he could hear Trisha's
stifled sobs. But it wasn't guilt he felt for raping his only child
...but fear. Fear of retribution. He sat up slowly on the edge of the
bed. He heard Trisha moving behind him, but it stopped, so he
disregarded it.
The clearer his mind became, the more two things became clear. One:
This was going to be very hard to hide. And two: It was the best
experience he'd ever had. He had fantasized about rape before, even
about 'snuff', but had never thought he could be capable of such a
thing. And he had certainly never fantasized about his daughter that
way. But the truth was the act had been better than he had imagined
possible. The combination of Trisha's struggles and the look of fear
and pain in her eyes had been more arousing than any other sexual
experience in his life.
He glanced over his shoulder, Trisha had curled up on her side and was
sobbing. If she told anyone about this he'd go to prison and probably
be killed there - they didn't like child rapists there. Even if she
didn't tell, if her mother suspected he could lose everything. At very
best he would live the rest of his live in fear of exposure. Damn! He
could picture it now, him in prison waiting for the inevitable day
when some other con stabbed him in the yard, while Trisha appeared on
Oprah to moan about how her mean daddy had ruined her life. Shit!
Fourteen years and that was the thanks he got? Damn, why had he done
such a stupid thing?
But even as he thought about it he remembered the look on Trisha's
face, the feel of her cunt, and his limp dick began to throb again. He
knew why he'd done it, the question was how to get away with it. If
she only were younger. At fourteen she was probably too old to
intimidate easily, a teenager nowadays knew too much about sex and the
law and all that to be easily silenced.
Silenced, he thought. He remembered the reason he had come up here in
the first place: Intruders. He'd thought someone might have broken in.
Well maybe they had, and they'd raped his poor defenseless daughter
and then ...his mind jumped with incredible ease to the next step,
...and then they'd killed her, leaving her unable to identify her
rapists. He waited for his mind to revolt at the idea of killing his
only daughter but it didn't any more, than it had rejecting the idea
of raping her. Instead it immediately dragged up memories of all the
news stories he'd seen and read about little girls found raped and
strangled throughout the years. And how few stories there were about
anyone being caught for those crimes. He pictured Trisha struggling as
he chocked the life out of her with his bare hands and his cock grew
harder at the image. Or maybe he'd drown her in the bathtub, he could
imagine her naked young body underwater, her eyes open and locked onto
his as he held her under. He rubbed his dick absently as he thought of
all the ways he could snuff her.
He turned around to look at her. The smooth curve of her back was
flawless, she had pulled her panties back up but otherwise had not
moved. She was still crying, but a lot softer. He squeezed his prick
and smiled to himself. Yup, he'd kill her to save himself, but no
point in wasting such a unique and precious opportunity, he'd have
some fun first. It was the least she could do for him with all the
trouble she had caused him.
He turned around and stroked her arm gently, she shivered and drew
away without turning around to look at him.
"Trish?" he spoke gently. "Trisha we need to talk."
She made no reply and so he got up and walked around to her side of
the bed. She didn't look at him so he kneeled down beside the bed and
took her jaw in his hand, moving her face gently but firmly until she
was looking at his.
"I understand you're upset, but here's the deal. I'm sorry this got
out of hand but I won't lie to you. A man has his needs, Trisha. And
it's been a long time since your mother and I fucked." She winced when
he said that word. It was a lie of course, his sex life was quite
good, but Trisha wouldn't know that.
"Now here's the deal. I think I've been a good father to you for
fourteen years, I've never hit you before, I've provided for you and
given you all the things you wanted, haven't I?"
She nodded slightly, snuffling.
"Right. Now, I know this isn't very conventional, but it's just a bit
of sex, no harm done. I don't think it's too much for a father to ask
after fourteen god damned years of taking care of you. So we're going
to have a little more fun and then I promise you, I will never ever
touch you again as long as you live." That much was true, anyway.
She was staring up again with sobs. "No, daddy, no more, please?"
He tightened his grip on her jaw. "Listen to me you little bitch, I
can force you if I have to, you've seen that. Now I never wanted you
in the first place, that was your mother's little surprise. But I
haven't complained in a decade and a half of raising you and all I
want from you in return is one night of giving me the pleasure your
damned mother won't!"
With that he let go of her jaw and pulled her off the bed. She came
easily, still limp from shock and disbelief, he supposed. He pushed
her onto her knees and stood in front of her. His dick was already
hard and he shoved it in her face.
"Suck!"
She complied tearfully, rightly afraid of more violence. She obviously
had never sucked cock before but tired gamely anyway. With his
instructions she was sucking down on the shaft and fondling his balls
like a pro in no time.
"That's it. Use your tongue you little whore!" He took hold of her
head with both hands, grabbing handfuls of her long blonde hair. He
wound them around his fists and began using them as handles to move
her head up and down his dick. She resisted a little at first but as
he began fucking her face in earnest, she had to concentrate on
breathing. Her hands had flown up to keep her balance and he
reprimanded her.
"Get your hands on my balls, dammit. I'll take care of keeping you
where I want you."
She returned a hand to fondle his balls and he shivered slightly. God,
her mouth felt good!
"Look at me while you suck!"
She raised her blue eyes to meet his. They were red with crying and he
could see tear tracks down on her face. Her mouth was wrapped around
his cock and he could see she was still having some trouble getting
enough air. Her mouth felt like heaven and the pleading look in her
eyes was more than he could take. Without warning he pulled back and
came on her face. Some of the semen hit her in the eyes before she
knew what was happening. She squeezed them shut and tried to pull away
but he held her there as he dumped his load all over her sweet face.
It seemed to take forever and he savored every minute of it, wishing
he had a camera to capture the moment. Finally he let go of her head
and stepped back. He walked over to her closet and began digging
around among her clothes, he pulled out some handkerchiefs and a
braided belt.
She was still on her knees, although she was wiping her face with the
bed covers.
"Lay down on the bed, on your stomach!"
She obeyed him immediately. Obviously she had resigned to seeing this
through as quickly and painlessly as possible. He smiled inwardly.
He used the handkerchiefs to tie her wrists together behind her back
and then her ankles, then he used another to gag her. She didn't
resist. He made the knots nice and tight. Finally he tied her wrists
and ankles together so she was hogtied. She had her eyes closed and he
could feel how tense she was every time he touched her, obviously
expecting the next assault. He didn't think she would expect this. He
rolled her onto her back, she had to spread her knees to ease the
weight on her limbs and having her arms under her made her chest stick
up nicely. He stepped back and picked up the belt. He twisted it
around his fist a couple of times and then raised his arm above his
head.
"Open your eyes you little slut!"
She did so and he smiled as they widened in shock. He brought the belt
down square on her cunt and even with the gag her wail was loud. No
matter, he knew the sound wouldn't carry far enough for anyone to be
heard. He whipped her tits next, leaving angry red welts on her smooth
skin, then her stomach. She tried to roll on her side to avoid the
blows so he hit her back and ass instead. She kept on squirming and
crying out and he worked himself into a frenzy, raining the blows hard
and fast and making her move first to one side and then the other in
an effort to escape the punishment. She was screaming in pain and fear
now and he realized, he was cursing at her as he whipped her, calling
her a slut and a whore and fucking bitch.
His arm began to ache and he gave her one last good one on the tits
and dropped the belt.
He looked around, panting a little from the exertion. His eyes lit on
the hangers in her closet, he walked over and began yanking stuff off
of them, but they were all the plastic kind, no wire hangers he could
use. He cursed and began to turn away when he had another idea. The
rack they hung on was about four feet long and a couple of inches
across. He grinned and wrenched it loose. He grabbed a scented candle
that was on the shelf as well.
She was whimpering again when he returned and he could make out words
through the gag, she was obviously scared now and begging him to stop.
"No Trish, I'm not going to stop. I'm going to keep on raping you
until I'm bored with it, ...and then I'm going to kill you!"
She let out a low moan of despair and started shaking her head.
"Yup. And I'm gonna fuck your snatch while you die, maybe afterwards
too."
He didn't wait for a reaction. He got a lighter from his discarded
trousers and lit the candle. He'd never tried playing with wax as a
sex toy and was curious. He let some wax build up and dripped it on
her, she flinched but that was all. After a few more tries he got
bored with it and decided on a more direct approach. He flicked the
lighter on and held it to her nipple, the reaction was much more
satisfying. He had to hold her still as he applied the flame to
different areas. It didn't take very long for damage to appear so he
went back to his pants and got his cigarettes.
He rolled her onto her back again and straddled her waist, he took a
drag from the cigarette and considered where to put it. He decided on
her nipple again and put it out right in the center. Then he repeated
the process with the other nipple. He smoked the cigarette that way,
taking a drag and putting it out and then relighting and taking
another drag. By the time he had smoked it her breasts were covered
with angry little red circles of burned skin and her body was covered
in a thin layer of sweat from the strain. He pulled the gag to the
side a little and pushed the butt into her mouth. He made sure she
swallowed it and regagged her. No point in leaving evidence.
- cont. -
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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