I was a very unruly and wild young lady. I skipped work all the time, hung out with much older guys, and most of the time, I did not listen to my father one bit. After my mum passed away, I seemed to lose touch with my father for the most part, disconnecting from him and lashing out at any given time. I was a very attractive girl and was known around work for being easy.
On this particular day, I decided to skip work after my first class. I was positive my father was at work, so I decided to go home with the intent of calling Ross (my boyfriend) over for a nice lay on daddy's queen size bed.
I walked in the door, dropping my purse, kicking off my flat shoes and heading into the bathroom. I sat down to relieve myself as I pulled my phone out, looking up Ross's number as I went. Before I dialled, I heard laughter coming from the basement. I stopped to listen. The house was so drafty that you could hear almost everything clearly from wherever you were inside.
"You just lost and you're out of money? You degenerate gambler!" The deep voice laughed, along with their ranges of laughter. "So how are you going to pay me and my friends?"
I tossed my phone on the ground and stood up, pulling my pink thong back up my jean skirt, brushing my long dark brown hair out of my face, and letting out a frustrated sigh.
"He fucking did it again. We're going to lose our house," I said to myself softly. I walked downstairs to see my father sitting at their makeshift poker table, his head in his hands, sobbing softly.
Around him, there were five men, all dark-skinned and well built, as if they were pro football players, or the type of thugs you see in the movies. They frightened me.
"Dad, what the hell are you doing? Did you lose the house again?"
"Yes I did, sweetie," he looked up at me, tears in his eyes, his face full of failure. "I'm sorry. We have to move again."
"You mother fucker!" I ran at him in a furious burst, punching him in his nose. He fell out of the chair, balling up as I began to pummel him, crying my eyes out as I did. "I hate you! I fucking hate you!"
"I'm sorry, dear!" My father cried as I beat him, straddling him as my fists hammered down into his chest. "I'm so sorry!"
One of the guys, a man who stood around 6'6", and was very muscular, grabbed me around my waist, wrapping his arms around me and yanking my arms off. I struggled hard to get out of his grasp, flailing and pushing on his arms. My 5'3" slender frame was no match for his linebacker strength.
"Hold on." He grinned as he sat me down, holding my arms behind me. "I think we can work something out for you to keep your house." He grinned evilly, looking to his friends, as it seemed they all knew what he was getting at.
Stood this guy, around six feet tall, and stocky, walked up to me and started to slide his hand up my inner thigh. I froze up, frightened as to what may be coming. "How about, we all have some fun with your rowdy daughter, and we'll call it even."
My father looked at them, frightened as well. He was a chubby middle-aged man, and his alcoholism showed in his stomach and face. He looked to his daughter, wiping his face, and seemingly without thinking about it, he told the men that they could proceed.
"Daddy, what the hell? No, no, no, daddy, don't let them! Daddy!" I screamed at him as the rest of the guys around me started rubbing their hands together and grinning in lustful delight.
"Sorry, honey, but we can't lose the house. You know that. Please, just for once think about the family more than just yourself."
"What?" I asked in confusion. That confusion soon turned to anger. "Alright, 'daddy.' Think about someone else but myself? Okay." I looked to the guys arouaboue, wiping tears from my eyes, and putting my chin up. I knelt down as they began to undo their pants. Each of my hands clasped around one solid dark rod each, my mouth opening to take the thick cock of the biggest guy.
