The blue B popped up on my phone screen. My heart quickened as I scrambled to both hide it and devour whatever tidbit has been offered. I wonder for a brief second if Daddy knows how I hang on his words, how I lust after his photos, how I fantasize about his soft touches and crave his harsh ones. No soft words, no sexy pics. Only an address and a time. I send a barrage of questions. Where is this? What is this about? I receive no information. No consolation. Only "Be there."
I pull up outside a few minutes early. An empty storefront. Am I in the right place? I'm afraid to just walk up there. I get out my phone to text, but then change my mind. Daddy likes it best when I follow directions without question. I take a deep breath, reapply my lip gloss, and smooth my short black dress as I get out of the car. I don't know if I should knock, or if I should just walk in. I go for the latter, and push through the dusty entrance.
Dense smoke hangs so thick I can barely see anyone. It appears to be a dive bar? No one acknowledges me as I enter, so I make my way to the makeshift bar and sit down. The bartender approaches, a large, black woman with a heart shaped tattoo on her over-sized breasts. She doesn't smile, which makes my big smile stand out even more. The old man next to me snorts disapprovingly at me, and I stop smiling and turn my chair. I order a bottled water. She laughs, and puts a warm beer in a red solo cup in front of me. I mutter some thanks and slide my money across the bar. She gives me note, folded twice, and then moves to the other side of the bar.
Anxious to see if you might have given me some idea as to what I am doing here, I quickly unfold the note. It is not from you, and I allow myself a sigh and a moment of disappointment. Another number. I sip my warm beer and take in the view. At that moment a door that all but disappeared in the darkness opens. A woman stumbles out. Drunk? No. Spent. Her hair is mussed and her clothes are disheveled. Her mascara is streaked down her face and her lipstick looks like it was applied by a five year old. I don't know what is happening, but I swallow hard, concerned that I may suffer a similar fate.
A crackly loud speaker calls a number like a BINGO hall. I look at the paper given to me by the bartender. The same. I look to the woman for information? Solace? She only points to the door left open by the previous hot mess. I poured the rest of the warm beer down my throat and move slowly through it.
It is, unbelievably, even more dark and dingy in this hallway. The walls are too close and the single yellow bulb does little to dispel the darkness. The door closes behind me as a fat, old man takes my elbow and leads me down the hall. He pushes open a small pocket door and motions for me to enter.
"Thank you, sir" I say, as though he were a proper gentleman. He winks, coughs, and walks away.
Inside this room is a small cot, like in a clinic, covered haphazardly with a sheet. The room is so small that the bed touches the walls on three sides. Black fabric covers the walls. Next to the bed is a small dresser. In the corner, a small trash can. A glass of water, and a towel are placed on top.
Suddenly the door opens. It's you. I don't think I have ever been so happy to see you. I hug you tightly and ask you what is happening. You pull away, kiss me deeply, and say only "It's ok. I am watching out for you. Be good, baby girl." As quickly as you arrived you are out the door again.
I sit on the bed for moments longer than is comfortable. I begin to fidget when I hear a gruff voice from somewhere. It doesn't sound like a loudspeaker or a radio. It sounds like he is in the room with me, but I can't see him. He says only "strip."
I look around to question, but think better of it. I take off my dress. I'm wearing a black lace bra and matching garter belt. I added the thigh highs for you tonight. I have a feeling you'll approve.
I fold my dress neatly and place it in the night stand drawer. The lights go out, and a spotlight shines on the far wall. The black curtains part and hole appears. I feel like Alice in Wonderland as I crawl across the bed to see if I can peek inside. Before I get to close, a penis appears through the hole. I screamed and jumped back across the bed.
Once I get my bearings, and crawl back over to the intrusion. It is long, and brown, and so hard. I know that it isn't you, daddy, so I tread lightly, careful not to get close enough that he can feel my breath. It twitches, and pops me on the nose. I jump back. The voice, again "I know you are there, bitch. And I know you know what to do."
I now see what is happening, and I can put together why the last girl looked the way she did. I come back to the end of the bed and reach out for the hard, long prick. I hold it, with a firm grip, and begin to slowly pump it. I hear a moan of approval, so I continue. A bubble of precum appears on the tip. I lick the salty tip and then hungrily devour the head. I feel powerful with a cock in my hand at my disposal. I slurp and spit and quicken my pace. My power doesn't last very long as he begins to push forward. I pull away.
"Take it!" He bellows. I try, but I gag and retreat again. "Ok, I tried to be nice, bitch" he bellows. At that point, the curtain pulls back further and reveals two more holes. "Now!" he roars, as I shove a hand through each.
As soon as I do, my hands are bound on the other side. Now, as he fucks my face I can't get away. I gag and my eyes fill with tears. It doesn't matter, and in a few minutes I am able to give in to the sensation. Once I am able to relax I flex my fingers to try to keep my blood flowing. I must have seemed like I wasn't getting enough - because within moments a second cock appears in my hand. I pump it, slowly, then quickening. A third dick fills my other hand. I cannot see the two that I am jerking off, but I know they feel differently than I am used to, so I still haven't found you. The three must be inspired by each other, as the dick in my mouth begins to sputter and twitch. Moments later, he fills my throat and I feel the sticky wetness coating my fingers.
