Alice

Alice is an 18 year old girl studying at a 6th form college which is part of an all-girls boarding school. This story contains scenes of sex, violence and gunplay. If you are not comfortable with this: do not read on.

*

The dress was amazing; it suited her and fitted perfectly. She'd found earrings in the box too, which she'd put on, and tried to do something with her hair. She stepped out into the living room and caught Dan slipping on his jacket. She noticed he had changed watches, this one with a more open, white face and no diamonds that she could see. He stopped for a moment, not quite having got his second arm in yet, smiled, then shrugged it on properly.

"You look positively stunning," he told her, walking over. Alice blushed a little and thanked him. He stood in front of her and took the sides of her arms gently in his hands. She looked up into his face and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, she felt her lips edge outwards almost imperceptibly, felt her lids go heavy, ready to close... but then she was aware that he was talking and she hadn't heard a word of it.

"Sorry," she began, "Um... what did you say?"

"I said you will make every man jealous of me tonight." She blushed again. "Will you do something for me, Alice?"

She looked into his eyes and said "Yes, sir."

"Good," he replied, "That makes me very happy." And then he did kiss her, gently brushing his lips against hers for just a moment. He pulled back, and lifted his hands to the tops of her shoulders. She felt his palms pressing lightly, she knew what that meant. Was she really going to do this? How could she? She had come here to the middle of nowhere, to this man she had never met before, was this going to be how she gave head for the first time? When she thought about it like that, she knew it shouldn't be. But when she looked at him, when she thought about his lips kissing her, felt his hands on her... she knew she wanted it to be. Slowly, keeping her eyes on his, she knelt.

She'd seen movies, that was what got her into this after all, and she guessed he'd want her to undo his belt and trousers, but as she began to move he gently took her wrists and put them by her side, stepping around behind her. He drew her arms back, putting her hands together and she suddenly felt exceptionally sexy. It didn't hurt exactly, but it was uncomfortable and she knew he could hurt her if he wanted to. Her shoulders were pulled back and her breasts pushed out. She subconsciously straightened her posture, pushing her behind out a little and spreading her legs ever so slightly. She felt plastic on her wrists. "Wha-"

"Shh, don't be afraid Alice." Then a noise like a zip being done up fast and her wrists went tight together. A cable tie. Shit... What had she got herself into? There was no one around, she could scream her head off and no one would hear, he could do whatever he wanted with her. But then... maybe she actually wanted that?

"Don't be scared, sweetie." He came around to her front again and knelt down to her level, looking into her eyes, smiling reassuringly. "It's ok, I just don't want you to move your arms. I can take off the tie if you like. Would you like me to take the tie off?"

She looked at him, trying to think, but gave up. "No, sir."

His smile grew, and he stood back up. "Good."

She was still scared though, and swallowed. Then she thought better of it and tried to wet her mouth. He brushed her cheek with a thumb, cupping her face, smiling down at her. "Such a pretty face. Close your eyes, my dear." She did as he said. She waited for the sound of him unzipping his flies. SMACK. His hand landed hard across her cheek and she winced. She was about to open her eyes, to scream, to yell... and then his hand cradled her face and she felt him kiss the wounded cheek. "Shhhh," he whispered, "be a brave girl now."

Somehow, even though she didn't even know this man, even though he had just hit her in the face, she felt more loved in that moment than she ever had before. Something inside her melted at this combination of roughness, of violence and pain, and affection. She wanted to do as he said, she wanted to be a brave girl, to not disappoint him.

SMACK. He hit her again. THWACK. This time it was with the back of his hand, a more solid impact on the other side of her face. Then he cradled her once more, kissing her forehead and whispering in her ear that she was a good girl and being very brave. He stood back up, but this time he took a hold of her hair, gripping it firmly near her scalp, and landed a flurry of hard slaps on one cheek in quick succession. Then he moved behind her and did the same on the other cheek. She screwed up her face against the attack, and just when she started to relax he landed a head-turning backhander across her jaw. Kissing her cheeks he whispered, "You're being so brave for me, Alice, so brave, but I need you to be brave for a little bit longer for me. Can you do that?" She nodded and whimpered an affirmative. "Good girl. Now lift your chin up nice and high for me. Good girl. And don't screw your face up; relax, look your perfect, pretty self for me. Don't try and fight it, just take it. Will you do that for me, Alice?" She nodded. "Good girl."

As he stood up, he placed two fingers under her chin and lifted it just that little bit higher. His eyes roamed across her face for a moment, studying her exquisite features, how the milky white skin was reddening on her burning cheeks. Then he struck her, again and again and again. Alternating between left and right, then dwelling on one for a spell before moving to the other, then back to alternating. He stopped every so often to whisper praise and reassurance, to lift her chin or straighten her neck or correct her posture. When he was done, her face was aglow.

"You look so very fine right now, Alice. Open your eyes." She looked up at him, smiling. It was the smile of someone perfectly content, the smile of someone loved.

"Thank you, sir."

"Come with me, sweetheart." He took out his pocket knife again and freed her wrists, taking a hand and helping her up. He led her to an armchair, sat down and patted his leg for her to sit. She hesitated. "Sit," he said smiling. She put a hand on his knee, and hopped up. She sat on the edge at first, rigid, with her hands in her lap. Dan pulled her closer to him, putting an arm around her waist and laying the other along the side of the chair.

"Did you enjoy that?"

"Yes, sir. Very much."

"Why do you think that was?"

"Um... I don't know. I liked you hitting me like that. It hurt but... it made my head go... well, it was nice. I felt like I was pleasing you."

"You were." She smiled, and noticed his hand had moved to her knee.

"I liked how you talked to me and held me and stuff, it made me feel, like, cared for."

"Was it the same when you were caned?" His hand had slipped under her dress now, but remained on her knee.

"No, not really. A bit. It was kinda the same, like... it hurt but it was nice, and..."

"And?" His hand started to slide slowly, very slowly, up her leg.

"And... I wanted things."

"What sort of things?" She blushed.

"You know."

"I do. Continue."

"Um... yeah it was nice, but when he caned me it was just that really, it was... hot. But I didn't feel like I was making him happy or anything; I wouldn't have cared if I did."

"But you do with me?" His hand was halfway up her thigh now, on that sensitive, tingly area.

"...I don't know you..." His hand reached the top of her thigh and she breathed in, biting her lip.

"You will, I think. But... you were saying: With him, you didn't feel like you were making him happy?"

"No... And, I didn't feel, like, cared for. It was just a punishment. With him there was no gentleness or anything."

"But there is with me?"

She looked him in the eye and smiled at him. "Yes, yes there is." There was a moment then, her sitting on his lap, their eyes meeting, both smiling. Her smile faded a little and her eyes closed, drifting inwards. Their lips met, warm and soft, brushing at first then more firmly moving. She drooped an arm around his shoulder. Then, underneath her dress, the dress he had bought her, a finger prodded at her cunt through her knickers. She gasped, but kept her eyes shut. He carried on kissing her, and she resumed kissing back. Her heart was pounding, her head swimming. That finger stroked her through the fabric, felt how wet she was, electrifying her.

Then their mouths parted and tongues began to dance, the finger rubbed more firmly, and she ground into him, trying to feel more. He slipped the finger through the crotch of her panties, rubbing her slit directly. Her kissing grew in intensity, and he grabbed at her panties, pulling them to one side. He took two fingers now, and rubbed roughly down the length of her sex. She moaned into his mouth, and he slid his fingers up into her. The moan strung out and he felt hot air from her lungs filling his mouth. He ground his fingers up and down, rubbing the inside of her, letting her feel the shape of them.

On a downward stroke he let them almost exit her, the tips of his fingers hovering just inside her entrance, then he rammed them up inside her, his thumb hitting her clit and his curled up fingers impacting her groin. He repeated hard, firm thrusts. She gasped, and he took his mouth from hers, planting it on her neck, kissing it, biting it. He kissed all along it, down across the strap of her dress to her shoulders, then back up along her jaw, finding her mouth once more. He sped up, pistoning his fingers in and out of her, almost holding her up with his other arm, cradling her in it. He felt a change in her, she was not merely enjoying sensations anymore, she was building towards orgasm. Her young tongue was eager, her body tensed, her hips thrust at him. He hooked his fingers, scraping her g-spot as he fucked her. She built to the precipice of release, and then he changed, switching from fucking her in and out to moving his fingers backwards and forwards, the hooked tips massaging that special place over and over again, his forearm a blur.

Her body shook and her mouth clamped onto his, muffling her scream, then broke away because she couldn't hold it any longer. She screamed openly for a moment, her finger nails digging into his back and arm. The orgasm rolled through her body, subsiding and then coming back again as another, shuddering around inside her. It trailed off and she grasped mentally at the last remnants of it as they died away. She collapsed against him, and he held her in his arms. He nuzzled her hair, breathing in a long lungful of its scent, and kissed the back of her head. He held her like that for a long while, she'd have stayed there forever if she could, but eventually he lifted her off him, and her eyes met his with nothing but adoration. They kissed briefly and sweetly, and he slid from under her, leaving her in the seat.

"Where are you going?"

"Just to get my wallet and things, I'll be back in a moment." She closed her eyes and swam away. When she heard him return, she opened them, refreshed, and stood up. Then her eyes went wide and she slapped at her legs and crotch.

"It's ok," he laughed. "I checked." She looked at him, embarrassed. She hated gushing, especially when it ruined nice things, but luckily she hadn't this time. "Come on, we best get going." He led her out the front door and round the side. There was a multi-door garage, but in front of that, under a wooden awning, was a car. She wasn't a car person, but she thought it was quite the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. "Wow," she exclaimed. "That is fucking cool."

"Language. And yes, I like to think so. It's a 1959 Ferrari. One of the American exports, I had the hard top fitted myself. Rains too damned much in this country!"

"It's very nice," she said, ducking inside as he held the passenger door open for her. Inside she could tell the design was old, but everything looked brand new. He got in, and turned the key, the engine roaring into life.

"Do you like cars?" he quizzed.

"Not really."

"Dinner then," he said and the wheels kicked up gravel as they sped off.

They had parked in an underground lot and walked the short distance to the restaurant. The night was warm and Alice didn't need a jacket. It was a hotel actually, but they were going to the restaurant downstairs. There were a few steps up to the big double doors. She'd half expected someone to open them for them, but Dan did it himself. They turned into the restaurant and a man was waiting to greet them. As they approached Dan leant down and whispered into her ear, "Call me Daddy."

"What??" she hissed back, but then they were there and it was too late to argue.

"Do you have a reservation?" the man asked.

"You did call ahead, didn't you sweetie?" Dan asked. Fuck. Sweetie? The man was already wincing, thinking about the age difference there must be between these two. He'd trapped her.

"Yes, Daddy," she replied, forcing herself to smile sweetly. The man seemed relieved.

"And what name is the reservation under?"

"De Boer," Dan answered for her.

The man scanned a ledger, then looked up and said "Thank you Mr. De Boer, I'll show Miss De Boer and yourself to your table."

Dan thanked him and followed, allowing the man to pull her chair out for her, and accepting menus and a wine list. He thanked the man again, and let him go. He looked through, and then called a waiter over. He ordered for himself and for her as well - without even asking what she'd like. She said nothing.

Food came and went, things she knew, but not like this, things she didn't even recognise. It was all delicious. The wine and the conversation flowed and they got to know each other. He kept things moving, always ready with a funny anecdote or an interesting titbit, a thoughtful question or an astute observation. It turned out he had made most of his money from property, but moved into freelance consultancy recently. He grew up in South Africa, but had moved to Britain. Both his parents had been killed when he was young, and her headmaster, he claimed, had a penchant for ladies of the night. One of these ladies turned out to be rather less a lady, and rather more an underage transvestite trafficked from Thailand who had overdosed as they did lines together. Dan had made sure he had evidence of this misfortune, and promised that neither the police, his wife nor the school would hear of it so long as her headmaster did him certain favours now and again. Alice was one of those favours. She wondered if she should be offended by that, but found herself almost flattered instead. Neither was she sure how comfortable she was with Dan protecting this man, but from hearing the things he had needed to do in order to survive in his youth back in 'the states' as he called it, she couldn't blame him for having more flexible morals. That aside, she felt quite charmed by him.

They were waiting for dessert when there was a pause. He was looking at her but not saying anything. She was trying to think of something to say when he hit her. It was not a playful slap, it was a painful smack with the back of his hand that turned her head and made her jaw ache. As she turned back to face him she saw people looking, on the edge of murmuring. He was smiling at her. She laughed.

"Daddy, I told you not to do that! People might think you're really hitting me!" He grinned and chuckled with her.

"Oh don't be silly, sweetheart, people know I'd never hurt you!" The faces turned back to their meals and the risk of murmuring evaporated. "You're a very clever girl," he said quietly. She realised then that it had been a test. She grinned at having done him proud.

"Thank you." He cocked an eyebrow. "Thank you, Daddy."

"Good girl. Ah, and it looks like another GDA's worth of calories has arrived." Sure enough, a waiter appeared with their desserts.

After dinner, he led her across to the cathedral where there was a concert. It wasn't a luxurious affair, with pews and folding seats, but it was all there was at the right time, he mentioned, and it was nice to have such a short walk. They played Mozart mostly, some Bach too, and some contemporary pieces with a female singer. There was a beautiful cello solo of her favourite piece. She wondered if he had arranged that somehow – questioned her music teacher? There was champagne afterwards and in the car ride back she felt a little drunk. When they got to his house, he carried her inside and laid her on the sofa. He lit a fire and as it was getting going he went to feed Mud. When he returned he sat down next to her and she snuggled up to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Mud came in and lay down on the rug in front of the fire. It wasn't cold, but everyone likes a fire. She tried to make sense of the day, but it was too much. She gave up and felt the warmth of his body, the strength of him, and let her eyes close.

She woke a short time later, the fire had burned down a little, Mud had disappeared and Dan was sipping a drink. He noticed she was awake and smiled at her. She smiled back and stretched.

"I had fun tonight."

"I'm glad. So did I." He stroked her cheek, and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "You're very beautiful, do you know that?"

"Thank you."

"That doesn't answer my question."

She smiled. "I do now."

"Good," and then he kissed her. It was slow and gentle, and they paused, noses touching, looking down. Her chest rose and fell; she felt his breathing waver.

"Baby?"

"Yes, Daddy?"

He swallowed. "Go put your school uniform on..." Then she swallowed, nervous suddenly; understanding.

"Ok." He pecked her on the cheek and she stood up. She picked up her bags and went to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Time passed, and Dan sipped his drink. He'd taken his jacket off, and undone a button on his shirt. His fingers drummed on the arm of the sofa and the second hand on his watch crept around the dial. Eventually, he heard the click of the bathroom door opening, and turned to watch her emerge. She stood in short black heels, knee high white socks, a blue plaid skirt, a white blouse, and a red Alice band. She'd put her glasses on too. She had her hands behind her back and looked down at the floor, shy. Dan set his glass down and stood up, drinking her in. He crossed to her and put his hands on her waist.

"You look beautiful, my darling." Her eyes flicked up and went back to inspecting the floor.

"Thank you, Daddy." He took her by the hand and led her to the edge of the sofa. His hands went to the small of her back and pulled her tight to him. Her lips turned to him as if drawn by a magnet and they kissed long and deep. He broke away, looking into her eyes. They said 'anything'. He took her face in his hands, and kissed her again, then put his hand around her throat. It just sat there at first, lying against her skin. Then he began to put pressure on her, gripping her neck tighter and tighter. She felt her throat close up, she tried to breathe but it was as if she had no lungs. He looked into her still and she saw burning lust in him. She realised she was scared, and that her fear was fuelling his lust. He wanted to terrorise her, he wanted to hurt her... and she wanted him to as well. The oxygen in her brain burned up, light-headedness flooded in, her eyes swam, and then he had released her and she was gasping for breath. He turned her, thrusting her down face first over the arm of the sofa. She looked back as she went down, lips apart, submitting to his desire.

His hands ran across her backside, feeling the pleats in her skirt, the curve of her behind. They ran down the backs of her legs, across her back and up her thighs, he pressed his crotch into the back of her and ran them underneath her body, gripping her breasts. Even through her bra and blouse he could roll her nipples between finger and thumb. She gasped. She felt the hardness pressing into her, felt the electricity of his touch. He flipped up her skirt and circled her bottom... then he smacked it. It was hard, so hard she yelped.