Daddy's Girl : An Extreme Psychological Horror

Home > Horror > Daddy's Girl : An Extreme Psychological Horror > Page 7
Daddy's Girl : An Extreme Psychological Horror Page 7

by Anton Palmer


  Was he expecting her to ‘show her gratitude’?

  Expecting more than a polite peck on the cheek?

  Rooted to the spot by her worries, she was unable to move as Marcus placed his hand on her hip and leant towards her. His aim was for her cheek but to her shock, Victoria turned her face and felt his lips against hers. Her blood pulsated at his touch, as if electricity was suddenly flowing through her veins, and she stood in a dreamy, exotic daze, her arm waving ‘goodbye’ almost subconsciously as Marcus pulled away and for several seconds after his tail-lights had disappeared into the night.

  ***

  Despite his cautious footsteps, the floorboard gave the tiniest of creaks.

  “Is that you, Marcus?”

  Marcus stopped outside his mother’s bedroom door and sighed heavily, there was certainly nothing wrong with the old girl’s hearing. “Yes, mother. It’s me.”

  “Come in and tell me all about your date.”

  Marcus groaned under his breath then opened the bedroom door. His mother was sitting herself up in bed, the effort required made obvious by her gasps for breath, amplified by the clear plastic oxygen mask strapped to her wizened face.

  “I want to know everything about her.” His mother pulled off her mask, her laboured breathing suddenly quieter.

  “There’s not much to tell, mother. Victoria is a beautiful woman, outside and in.”

  “Christ almighty. That’s the most complementary thing I’ve ever heard you say. Is it love?”

  “Mother, please. We’ve only had one date.”

  “Well you’re back early. I assume that means she didn’t spread her legs…”

  Marcus frowned, uncomfortable at his elderly mother’s sexual references.

  His mother continued, regardless. “Well that puts her several rungs up the ladder from your usual cum-bucket sluts!”

  “Mother, please! Will you…moderate your language…its unseemly.”

  “Oh for goodness sake, boy. Do you think I was a virgin when I married your father – God rest his useless soul? My god, I’d had every orifice stuffed a hundred times before I settled for him.”

  “Mother! Please!” Marcus started reversing towards the bedroom door, a grimace of disgust etched deep on his face.

  “Oh for Christ’s sake!” His mother started putting her mask back on – the conversation clearly coming to an end. “Marcus, my son. If she’s that good you’d better marry her, and quick. I’ve not got long left and you’ll only fuck it up if you leave it too long. Remember – no wedding, no money!”

  He backed out of the door. “Goodnight, mother.”

  16

  “Well, here we are - Mrs Shaw-Hamilton!”

  Marcus lifted Victoria into his arms, her pure white wedding gown rustling against his, now, less than pristine suit, a three-quarters full bottle of champagne still clutched in one of his hands.

  “Oops…sorry, sweetheart.” He wobbled for a second, the champagne he’d already consumed during the long day affecting his coordination, almost smacking his new bride’s head against the door as he fumbled with the card-key.

  “Here we go…one...two…THREE!”

  The newlyweds tumbled through the door of the hotel suite, landing in a giggling heap on a plush white rug. Marcus lay almost on top of Victoria, the champagne bottle safe in his outstretched arm. Her breasts pressed firmly against his chest and he felt a stirring of arousal between his legs. Rolling off her he stood up, stretching out a hand to help his wife to her feet. He pulled her close, his hand gently massaging the small of her back through the satin material of her dress as he kissed her lightly on the mouth. “Do you know what I think, my darling?”

  Victoria shook her head, the smile that had adorned her face all day, still radiant.

  “I think…” Marcus belched loudly, “oops…pardon me! I think, it’s time you changed into something more…comfortable.” He gently squeezed her bottom as he emphasised the last word.

  Victoria stared at him, confused. “Like what?”

  As he struggled to stifle a laugh, Marcus kissed his index finger and placed it on her lips, “Your nightwear, Baby – its bedtime!”

  Victoria grabbed her small suitcase from beside the bed and started to unzip it.

  “No, no, sweetheart. Not here. Take it into the bathroom. I want to be surprised when you come back out.”

  As soon as his wife closed the bathroom door behind her, Marcus took a hearty swig of champagne, plonked the bottle onto Victoria’s bedside table and hurriedly removed his own clothes, leaving several thousand pounds worth of Italian craftsmanship in a crumpled heap on the floor. Standing naked at the foot of the bed, he admired his penis, standing rock hard and proud. He couldn’t decide what it was that excited him most; the prospect of breaking in a virgin or the fact that he would soon be the beneficiary of a big, fat inheritance – or at least he would be as soon as his beloved mother croaked and gasped her way to celestial pastures new.

  A loud sloosh of water was followed by the sound of Victoria brushing her teeth. As soon as he heard the tap turn off, Marcus felt his cock throbbing with anticipation – clearly the thought of breaking and entering his new bride’s virgin hole was the more exciting and his heart thudded hard against his ribs as Victoria stepped back into the bedroom.

  “What the hell?” Marcus almost broke down with laughter, his penis already starting to soften just a little. “What are you wearing, babe?”

  “My nightdress…” Victoria stood in her long white night-gown, like some Victorian maid. She was utterly bemused by her husband’s behaviour.

  Had she done something wrong?

  No. He’d told her to get ready for bed.

  Marcus pulled himself together. “Sweetheart…when I said nightwear, I meant…something sexy. You know, stockings, suspenders, basque, a see-through negligee…that kind of thing.”

  Victoria felt queasy as she suddenly pictured Mandy’s thongs hanging on her kitchen radiator, those skimpy, semi-transparent strips of material that passed as underwear.

  Was that the kind of thing Marcus wanted her to wear?

  Virtually transparent garments that barely covered her lady-parts or by their very design actually emphasised those parts?

  “It’s ok, baby…” Marcus was still laughing, “Let’s just see what I’ve signed up to…arms up!” Still reeling from his reaction to her choice of sleep-attire, she raised her arms without even thinking about it. He reached down and grasped the hem of her nightgown, lifting it up and over her head in one go, tossing the garment across the room leaving Victoria naked and exposed before him. She immediately attempted to cover her modesty, one arm across her chest, her other hand between her legs.

  “Uncover yourself, sweetheart.” Marcus reached for her arms and gently pulled them away from her body. “Don’t be shy – I am your husband after all.”

  Husband…husband…

  Of course, he is. He’s my husband now and I’m his wife. In the eyes of the law and of God.

  It’s perfectly fine to be naked for your husband.

  It’s perfectly fine to be naked for your husband.

  It’s perfectly fine to be naked for your husband.

  Repeating the mantra over and over in her head, she allowed her arms to hang by her sides and stood there awaiting her husband’s inspection. She studied his face as his eyes greedily appraised her body, feeling the heat of his gaze as his focus paused on her breasts and between her legs. Marcus slowly walked behind her. She felt his hot breath on the back of her neck as he pressed himself closer against her, running his hands up her flanks…

  …the smell of dirt suddenly filled her nostrils. She was in the basement, her father’s breath on her neck, his coarse fingers on her skin…

  Marcus’s hands cupped her breasts, his fingers gently kneading her flesh for a few seconds before sliding upwards, delicately circling her nipples. Her breasts tingled and she felt her nipples stiffening under his touch. Marcus kissed the back of her
neck as he fondled her with greater fervour, and, as she felt his erection pressing against her back, Victoria sensed the dampness between her thighs.

  She was both terrified and aroused. Sick to the stomach with anxiety yet dripping with anticipation. Her buttocks were gently thrusting back towards Marcus, eager to feel more of him against her. Her clitoris throbbed between her slick lips, fear had been defeated by desire, she wanted him inside her, wanted his seed to fill her…

  Could she conceive this very night?

  In her mind she was suddenly back outside the sandwich shop, the scent of baby Emily’s hair filling her senses.

  “They do smell lovely, don’t they?”

  As Marcus rolled a stiff, tingling nipple between his fingers she gasped with pleasure, the image of her own potential new-born latching on to her breast flooding her mind’s eye…

  Sensing the heat of her arousal, Marcus lay his new bride on the bed and carefully lowered himself down onto her. His penis pulsated almost to the point of pain. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so aroused. He allowed his shaft to slide up and down her sex, smiling as he felt Victoria open her thighs wider, eager to have him inside her. Marcus was taking it slowly. He could only deflower her once and he was desperate to savour the experience. His mind was turning over the possibilities – should he enter her slowly, stretching her, breaking her in an inch at a time? Or just thrust straight in, hard and deep? Make her scream with the pain of his penetration…the thoughts were too much, almost bringing him to the point of climax. He so wanted to see the look in her eyes as he slammed into her, enjoy the expression on her face as she felt his cock filling the space where no other man had been before.

  “First things first.” Marcus rolled off her and went to the bedside table.

  “What’s the matter, Marcus? Have I done something wrong?”

  “Far from it, my darling…I just need to get…”

  She heard a tearing sound and saw Marcus fumbling with something, his back turned towards her. He turned to face her as he finished unrolling the condom down his length.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Oh, do I not need one? Are you on the pill or something? I just assumed you wouldn’t be…”

  “What? No…why are you using …contraception? I thought you wanted children?”

  “I do, babe. I do…but not yet. I want to have a few years of fun before we get tied down with all that kiddie stuff. Don’t you?”

  “No. I want to conceive as soon as possible. I thought that was what we both wanted.”

  Victoria had sat up in bed. Her legs now closed. Marcus knelt beside her, his penis thrusting towards her as if somehow, just the sight of his manhood would be enough to win her over. He grabbed her hand and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, sliding her hand slowly up and down his length. “See how hard it is, baby? That’s down to you. You are so beautiful, so gorgeous, so sexy…you’ve made it bigger and harder than it’s ever been.”

  As Marcus guided her hand over his penis, Victoria closed her eyes, the memory of that night with the male stripper returning to the fore. Despite Marcus’s assertion that her ‘gorgeousness’ had made his penis bigger and harder than ever before, he was nowhere near the size of the stripper. She remembered the way the fake policeman’s member had expanded in her hand, almost monstrous compared to Marcus’s more average proportions. She recalled the network of thick veins that textured his shaft, the blood pulsating and throbbing under her fingers, the huge eye which seemed to stare at her…

  “Oh yes, Victoria. That’s it…you’re doing it baby…”

  As the images of the stripper replayed themselves in her mind, Victoria had started furiously masturbating Marcus’s penis, his moans of pleasure bringing her attention back to the present. She too was breathing hard, almost guttural, as she pumped her husband’s shaft and felt a new wave of excitement flooding between her thighs.

  Marcus could wait no longer. He grabbed Victoria’s legs and pulled her further down the bed and, once again, onto her back. He slithered back on top of her, wedging himself between her splayed thighs desperate to take her virginity before she had chance to change her mind again.

  Victoria was at the height of her arousal and all considerations of conception had been banished, her brain bursting with desire, one all-consuming thought – to have Marcus inside her.

  Marcus lined up the tip of his condom covered erection with Victoria’s vagina. He looked down at his new bride’s face, staring into her eyes, waiting to see how they reacted when he plunged inside her for the first time. He’s made up his mind - she was going to get it hard and fast…

  Victoria looked up at Marcus as his face hovered above hers. He was staring into her eyes. He knew this was her first time, so one part of her hoped he would take it nice and slow. Another, deeper, baser part of her, the part that was pulsating with desire didn’t care. It just wanted to be filled by him, stretched and pounded until desire was sated. She closed her eyes in anticipation, ready to savour the moment.

  SLUT!

  No please, father. Not now…

  WHORE! Sex for pleasure is a sin! It will hurt you, Victoria. Hurt a lot. And I’m going to enjoy watching the pain in your face…

  Victoria felt her vaginal muscles lock tightly shut as Marcus thrust into her. She screamed loudly as, despite the vice like clamping between her legs, her wetness combined with the lubricant from the condom allowed him to sink his full length into her virgin hole. She wailed again as he began to pound her. Every stroke felt as if her insides were being torn in half. Every agony causing her to clamp tighter still, amplifying the pain even more.

  Enjoying yourself, my darling daughter? I told you it would hurt, didn’t I?

  Her father’s laughter echoed inside her head.

  Victoria couldn’t take any more. As Marcus reached his climax, grunting loudly as his ejaculate filled the condom, she lashed out hard with her open hand, delivering a sharp, stinging slap across his face. He rolled off her, his arousal spent and she leapt from the bed, locking herself in the bathroom.

  “What the hell did you do that for, you bitch? He shouted at the closed bathroom door, rubbing his reddening cheek as he stared down at the bloodstains on the bed. He threw the condom into the bin before wiping his shrivelling penis on the bedsheets. Sounds of retching emanated from the bathroom followed by the splash of vomit landing in the toilet bowl. He rapped lightly on the door. “Victoria? You ok, sweetheart?”

  The toilet flushed and he waited a moment for the noise to die down. “Victoria? Babe? I’m sorry if I hurt you…you just got me so horny I guess I forgot to go slow. The first time’s over now though, babe…it won’t hurt next time…we can have another go tomorrow if you like?” He knocked on the door again. “Babe?” After a minute or two, he gave up waiting for an answer and climbed into bed, the alcohol intake of the day combined with a post-coital drop in energy levels quickly conveying him to the land of dreams.

  Victoria sat on the toilet, sobbing quietly. Her vagina stung and the water in the bowl beneath her pinged as drops of blood continued to seep from between her legs. Shame consumed her. Shame that she had wanted to have sex - purely for pleasure - and shame that she had not believed her father. He had told her sex would hurt - and it had. It had hurt like Hell. That word reminding her of where her soul was probably now destined for, having committed the sin of lust.

  She stared at the shower cubicle, its smear-free glass doors gleaming in the brightness of the spotlights, recessed in the ceiling.

  You know what you must do, Victoria…

  “Yes, father.”

  She stretched into the cubicle, set the temperature as low as it would go and turned the water on full-power. She watched, glassy-eyed, almost mesmerised, as the power-shower blasted the cubicle floor, droplets of crystal-clear liquid bouncing back into the air, the spotlights causing them to shimmer like diamonds. Fresh tears suddenly began to flow but this time she fought back the sobs, swallow
ing them deep down.

  Hearing snoring coming from the bedroom, she opened the bathroom door a crack and peered through the gap. Marcus was fast asleep on top of the bed covers, his flaccid penis dribbling the last remnants of semen onto his thigh. She shuddered for a second at the sight of it, and, pulling her gaze away, grabbed the bottle of champagne from the bedside table. Locking the bathroom door behind her once more, she glugged the alcohol from the bottle, spilling some down her chest, the drink stinging her intimate areas as it followed the contours of her body and ran between her legs. She gagged and choked but forced the champagne down, determined to drink as much as she could and test its powers to blot out her mind.

  Placing the empty bottle in the basin, the alcohol already starting to pleasantly blur her thoughts, she stepped into the shower cubicle and allowed the freezing jets to blast her flesh red-raw. For over an hour she stood behind the pristine glass. Leaning against the gleaming black wall tiles, her body shivered and quaked like a seizure victim until the bleeding had stopped, all traces of the heat of desire had been scoured away and her skin, if not her soul, had been cleansed.

  OMEGA

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  17

  Victoria’s head was pounding, her stomach churning like a colicky tumble-dryer.

  Marcus had been out last night – again – and she had spent the evening alone in their room, drinking a bottle of red wine to pass the time while ignoring her mother-in-law’s repeated requests to come and sit with her.

  The alcohol had become something of a habit over the past few months, which, combined with a degree of comfort eating had led to her putting on a few pounds. Mandy had commented on it – as kindly as she could – pointing at her bulging waist-line and suggesting married life must be agreeing with her.

 

‹ Prev