I stand silently in the darkened corner of the club, stalking him with my ice blue stare. I absently twist my unnaturally blue/black hair, cropped at my shoulders, confident that he can't see me. My choice of clothes lets me blend into the darkness easily. I have on a pair of baggy black jeans, a fitted black tank top, and my beat up leather coat. My eyes narrow to slits. He looks happy and carefree.
He is 46 years old and leaning up against the bar, a beer in his large hand. His graying hair is the only sign of his slightly maturing age. As always, he towers over the surrounding patrons, standing at 6 foot 4. He has long brown hair that falls to his broad shoulders, his ice blue eyes piercing the dark vividly. He had always kept in shape but now he was well muscled and lightly tan. I've been wanting to fuck this man since I had turned eighteen years old 4 years ago.
He was my father. He had kicked me out 4 years ago because I had tried to seduce him on my 18th birthday, failing miserably. He'd been outraged and disgusted that his body had betrayed him. His dripping cock had gotten rock hard. He threw my stuff outside and had told me never to come back. My life became about just surviving. No happiness, love, or friendship had touched my life the past 4 years. I had lived through hell. The hell he threw me into.
Little did he know, I was back and my revenge was going to be very sweet. He's painfully oblivious that I was even here as he flirts with the bitches panting after him. I'm going to teach him to deny me, to deny his own twisted, carnal desires. For the rest of the night, I focus on him and only him.
Finally, at closing time. He stumbles out of the bar to a waiting cab and gives the driver his address.
I look at him through the rear view mirror, smirking. The bastard didn't even recognize me. Oh, but he will soon enough.
I steer the bright yellow taxi into the drive of my old childhood home. I turn around to find him passed out in the back seat. Still a lightweight, I see.
I climb out and walk around the front of the car to his door, opening it. He looks so weak, yet, still I want to fuck the shit out of him. Make him beg as I ride his fuck stick rough and hard. I grab him by hooking my arms beneath his and half walk/drag him into the darkened house.
Slowly, I make my way to his room and throw him down on the bed. For a long moment, I stand and stare at him. His loud cough startles me into action, I tie his hands tightly to the head board and his legs, spread wide, to the posts on the footboard. I inspect my handy work, smiling. Time to wake the bastard up. I pull my big bowie knife from the sheath attached to my calf.
"Daddy Dearest, wake up!" I scream right into his ear.
He yells loudly and jerks to sit up, but he can't, he frantically looks at the bondage, then my knife. When his eyes lift to my face recognition pours into his terror filled eyes.
"Oh fuck! What the fuck are you doing? Let me go right now, Sarah!" his voice sounded so distressed, I laugh.
