January 30, 2023
Daddy's Healing Touch Part 04

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Sarai

“You fucking bastard! What have you done?!”

Antonio’s shouting pierced my ears and I physically recoiled from it.

In the last few years, I had been more or less glued to the man and had had the misfortune of bearing witness to what I thought as having been the entire spectrum of his anger, from the quietly simmering to the downright explosive. And yet I’d never heard him like this before, wailing in despair, cursing in three languages, moaning in agony, pacing the room, unable to control himself.

“Don’t be afraid, Sarai,” the man I’d given myself to whispered and put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

I almost wanted to laugh, had the scene surrounding us not chilled me to my core.

How could I not be afraid?

This man clearly didn’t know Antonio, because if he did, he would have been trembling too, or trying to escape, or doing a million other things than staying in my bed, comforting me.

I knew that Antonio was going to get angry and I knew that it was going to be more destructive than a volcano’s eruption, leaving ashes in its wake.

Now, even more so, because I hadn’t counted on him coming in and seeing me this freshly used. His obsession with me was too great and I feared for both me and this stranger that I’d let have my virginity.

God knew what sort of torture he would now have to endure, all because I had used him to escape my situation.

I almost wanted to apologize to the man, but what could I have said? “Sorry I tempted you into fucking me, sorry you’re going to die a brutal death now”?

God, I didn’t even know his name, or if he had a life beyond all this, a good one, with family or friends that he could have returned to. I was overcome with guilt. I had been ready to die in the name of my freedom, but I had never wanted to take the life of another as well.

“Get your fucking hands off her, malparido!”

All the nearby men had rushed into my bedroom. Like a stampeding herd of bulls, alarmed by their boss, the matador, they had followed his battle cry into the arena.

But they also stopped a few feet in, stunned by what they were seeing.

Like Antonio, they couldn’t believe that a man had not only entered this forbidden space, but that he had had sex with me, The Untouchable. The Pure Girlfriend.

Well, I wasn’t pure anymore.

The man slowly got off the bed, and I followed after him, using my body as a shield. On the off chance that my value hadn’t just dropped to zero and Antonio wasn’t going to gun me down himself, this was the least I could do to repay the man.

“Let’s talk first,” he told Antonio.

“Talk?! What’s there to talk about, you piece of shit, fucking tragaleche?”

I had to give it to him. He had insane courage or maybe he was just insane for being this collected, when likely more than two or three dozen men had their guns pointed at him, ready to shoot.

“What have you fucking done, you motherfucker? I could have given you any cunt in the world if you had come to me and asked. Oh God, you came in her,” Antonio wailed. “I think I am going to be sick.”

I could feel it, now, trickling out of my pussy, traveling the length of my thigh. Without meaning to, I touched myself there and I winced.

“He forced you, didn’t he, my dove? That fucking pendejo! Don’t worry, I am going to kill him and-”

“No, you will not,” the man said.

I felt something cold pressing against my temples, and then something clicking. He was holding a handgun to my head, and the man had just pulled its safety.

I began shaking with cold and fear. As it turned out, I didn’t really want to die.

“You are going to let me go and when I am in a safe location, I will call you and tell you where you can come to pick up your little whore here. Mmm,” he pressed me against himself and inhaled, “I can smell myself on her skin now. She’s no longer all yours.”

Was he trying to piss Antonio off on purpose?

“I’ll need a car and a million dollars.”

“You do not get to make any demands here.”

“And,” he trailed off, saving the best for last, “I am going to fuck her a few more times, send her back well used, if you don’t get to it right fucking now. I haven’t buried my cock in her ass yet. I bet that’s an even tighter hole and she’s going to scream so deliciously for me as I rip her apart.”

I let out a genuinely frightened mewl when I felt him push his cock into my butt crack.

“I will find you and I will kill you like a fucking dog, te lo juro, hijo de puta!”

“I am sure you will,” he laughed, “but for now, you’re both my little cunts. This one, especially. Now move it, Santos, or I put a bullet in her and you can have her corpse tonight.”

I let myself be wrapped like a burrito with one of my bed sheets and then marched barefoot around the villa, listening to Antonio alternating cursing out in Spanish and reassuring me that I was going to be okay.

I was surprised that he cared for me, still. Maybe he actually loved me, in a very sick, twisted way.

I was even more surprised when Antonio actually paid off this man - a million dollars was a lot of money.

Actually, wait, how come did he even have so much money? How many prostitutes did he have now? How many women were suffering humiliations and enduring rapes for his financial gain?

“Hasta la-”

Antonio cut him off. “I will give you another million if you deliver her without further damage.”

“Sure thing, Santos, I will be extra gentle when I rape her ass,” he mocked, shutting the passenger door in Antonio’s face and driving away with me firmly frozen in my seat.

I wrapped the bed sheet around my shoulders even tighter as Antonio’s cursing got fainter and fainter, like a bad memory.

Was this… freedom?

I could hardly believe it.

Actually, the more I thought about it, the less I believed it.

Maybe I hadn’t escaped anything, maybe I had gotten myself in the worst situation possible. Maybe this guy was more brutal and sicker than Antonio. Although he had seemed reluctant before, he did end up fucking me, quite roughly too, and what was that about raping my ass? I shuddered. To have the guts to taunt a man like Santos, what kind of beast was this guy?

“Who are you?” I asked my new… captor?

Given how he had handled the situation at the villa, he was no random underling, jealous over what his boss had and wanting a piece of it.

He also hadn’t lost his way, falling dick-first into my pussy, he had needed some convincing to fuck me. Meaning I could cross the whole rapist thing off my list.

Nor was he Antonio’s known enemy, since he had entered the premises without any alarms going off.

But he left with both me, Antonio’s woman, and a million dollars of his money and knowing Tony, this man had just signed his own death sentence.

“I asked you a question,” I repeated, frustrated.

He sighed. “You should get some rest. You must be sore down there.”

I blushed, but this time my need to know what was going to happen to me outweighed my embarrassment.

“Why are you doing this? Do you want to keep me as your sex slave? Or do you want to rape me and hand me back to Antonio when you’ve had enough of using me?”

I demanded to know this, even allowing a bit of anger to surface at the idea of once again being treated like a sex toy by a man. I did not exist for them to get off by using my body, then to be discarded until they needed a release again. I was a person, not thing.

“Is this what you think of me?” The man asked.

Maybe I was imagining it, but he sounded hurt by my accusations.

I sighed.

“I don’t know what to think. I don’t know you.”

“You didn’t know me back there either, and you still,” he trailed off. “You know. You begged me to touch you and then I, well, we both know what I did to your body.”

This man who couldn’t bring himself to say out loud that I had sucked him off or that he had fucked my pussy was the same one as the daring blackmailer from a few minutes ago? What the hell, it did not make sense. Why was he being gentle and shy with me now? I was tired of men’s mind games.

“Why were you in my bedroom? If it was money that you wanted, or a whore-”

He cut me off. “I didn’t think you were a whore. I still don’t.”

“Everyone knows I am Antonio’s woman.”

“-were-”

“-which makes me one of his whores!” I yelled.

He swerved abruptly. We must have been going at a pretty high speed, because by the time the car finally stopped trying to become a giant blender, throwing me from side to side, I was nearly out of breath. It felt like he had parked us on the edge of a small ravine, for how out of balance I felt. Was this the end? Had I pushed him too far?

“You. Are not. A whore,” he panted.

“Do you think I ever said no to him?”

“You were his prisoner.”

“Whore.”

I had forced myself not to think about my situation like that, but that was the truth, wasn’t it? I was just another of the women Antonio controlled and used. It didn’t matter than he hadn’t beaten me or put his dick in me or given me to others or collected money off the use of my body. I was kept in that bedroom for his sexual depravities.

“Then you won’t mind it if I used you? Or are you exclusive, one man’s personal entertainment?” He asked, his hand already working on spreading my legs apart.

I let him.

Hell, I made it easier for him and I turned around in my seat, offering him my pussy once more.

He had taken me for sex, after all. First Antonio, now him. What was it, did the world run out of women they could fuck and they both settled on having me?

“What do I get out of it?” I asked, annoyed.

“What do whores usually get for selling their bodies? I’ll give you 50 dollars. But only because I like your tits,” he said, and pulled on one of my nipples, stretching it until it hurt, making me cry out.

I tried not to be offended. After all, it was my own stupid mouth that got me in this pickle. I had been the one to insist I was a whore. I had been the one to accuse him of only wanting that from me. So if he was acting cold and mean to me now, he was only doing what I had insisted on being the truth of us.

He grabbed the back of my head, pulling on my hair again. I had begun to slide my ass towards him, but he had stopped me and pushed down on my head instead.

In a split second, I found myself gagging on his cock. He had deliberately pulled too hard on my hair to make me scream and took the opportunity to shove himself into my mouth.

I let out a hard grunt of surprise but he did not give me a second, did not give me any time at all. He was fucking my throat in rough, shallow thrusts. I couldn’t catch my breath, I was choking on his cock and my own saliva, feeling like I could pass out any minute.

“You should see yourself now, your lips stretched around my cock, shining, wet. This is how the likes of you get treated. Do you like it? Do you want to pass out on my cock? Huh? I was kidding. Whores don’t get a say in anything.”

It couldn’t have been more than maybe ten minutes of this oral abuse before he came with a sharp whine, right down my throat, his teeth clenched and his fingers tangled tight in my hair.

I had no choice but to swallow.

For a while after that, he didn’t move. Neither did I. We were catching out breath together, his cock softening in my mouth, as I processed what had happened.

One more car passed us by, another in the sea of strangers unaware of what had been going on under the roof of this one, and the hand holding me down eased its pressure. I was finally allowed to let him slip out of my mouth.

“Kiss it again,” he breathed.

And I did.

I kissed his flaccid cock, covering his shaft with my lips the same way I had done before, angling my head to get to all of it. Gentle and unhurried, I kissed him until he grew hard again and then, without being told to, I took him in my mouth.

Without his hand to push me down his cock, I wasn’t going quite as deep as to gag myself, but I was trying.

It took him a good long while to cum this time, and my jaw was terribly sore, but there was something absolutely fascinating about the act and I didn’t want to break the spell by complaining. It didn’t matter how rough he had been earlier. This cock of his, I liked. I liked the smell, the taste, the texture, I wanted to service it over and over again.

“Tell me something.”

He sounded so serious.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Why did you try so hard to make me fuck you back there?”

I laughed a bitter laugh.

“Antonio doesn’t love me. Or maybe he does, I no longer know for sure. But it doesn’t matter. Unless you’re going to send me back to him. Are you?”

“Do you want to go back to him?” He asked, tentatively.

I shook my head. “I would rather die. So if that’s your plan, please have mercy on me and shoot me. Or hand me the gun, I will kill myself.”

“Do not ever say that again,” he spat. “Your life is precious.”

“Like my virginity?” I laughed, feeling empty and drained, the surge of adrenaline from everything that had happened finally dying out. I got up from his groin. “Did you know that was what he had liked most about me? That I hadn’t been fucked?”

“No, I-I did not.”

“My mom used to work for him, you know. That’s how I ended up in that bedroom. He thought I was so damn precious and unique just because no man had touched me, that he decided that no man shall.”

“Does that mean I-”

“Oh, yes. My first fuck ever,” I replied, adding some fake cheer, because God, I had really just gone and did that?

I had let a total stranger fuck me, because I had been so desperate to escape? In a way, I was happy this guy didn’t have a fetish for murdering women. What had I been thinking, letting him fuck me not once, but twice? Well, the third blow job had been my own idea so it wasn’t fair to count it too. But the point was that I hadn’t been thinking. I had clearly lost my mind after so many years with Antonio subjecting me to so many twisted things.

“If you’re wondering what he did with me if not fuck me, well, what didn’t he do to me? Short of raping me, he did every dirty, perverse, humiliating thing that there was,” I found myself saying.

Another freeing, deliciously addicting and empowering thing, more so than having consensual sex, was being able to say what was truly on my mind.

“He liked to jerk off on me, the stepping stone to one day cumming in me,” I reminisced, unable to stop myself from airing all my dirty laundry. “I had to wipe his cum off my thigh, belly, even pussy. I had often woken up to him humping some part of my body. He thought that if I wasn’t aware of it, then it didn’t count, it didn’t happen. He had always left me alone, after, feeling sick with what he had done to me. I had felt sick too. Used. Discarded. I have never let him know that I had been awake during it all. Because after all of that, I still had to be his shy, pure little virgin who had never had a man mistreat her.”

“I am so sorry.”

I shrugged. “This world is just fucked up. No one truly loves or cares for anyone.”

“That’s not true. You still have your mother and-”

If he was going to say father, then I was glad that he didn’t. Because if my daddy hadn’t vanished, then none of this would have happened. My mom wouldn’t have had to sell her body. I wouldn’t have lost my sight and later on, dignity. And maybe my first time having sex would have been with a man I loved, not just the first available cock. I didn’t regret it, I had still enjoyed it, I just… I was no one to this man and he was no one to me.

“What’s your name, anyway? At least give me that. I’ve been having a love affair with your cock here and we’re not even on a first name basis.”

“Why did you let me do that to you?”

“Would you believe me if I said I liked your dick? It’s weird, I know,” I said and reached out for it, petting it, caressing it. “It feels oddly good to kiss it and love it. You taste nice.”

“Mmm,” he groaned.

He grabbed my hand, wrapping my fingers around his cock and he showed me how to jerk him off, how hard to squeeze him.

“Come here,” he moaned and helped me straddle him.

He fucked me like that for a while, gently rocking and bouncing me on his lap, his arms wrapped around my hips, guiding me.

His cock went deeper than before, bottoming out in me every other thrust, until he learned how not to hurt my pussy with his sizeable rod.

The change of pace was welcomed and it seemed to suit us both. I could feel it in his voice, taste it on his skin - the same dichotomy that ruled me, ruled him too. We both went from calm to raging after being reminded of the hell surrounding us, torturing us. He seemed as starved for love as I was and while whatever we were doing in this car, naked, wasn’t real love, it was still the kindest and gentlest anyone had ever been with us both.

“Soon, you will know,” he whispered against my chest, taking me by surprise.

I ran my fingers through his hair, slightly tugging. I needed him to fuck me harder - I was so close to cumming.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked and then his words were replaced by a hard grunt and rapid short thrusts. He’d reached his finish line and was cumming in my bare pussy.

My body followed his along and I embraced him, shuddering on his cock.

“Tell me,” I insisted, trying to catch my breath.

“I’m taking you to your mother, Sarai,” he replied and the revelation flowed as if I’d ripped it from his throat.

Still rocked by steady waves of pleasure, I took advantage of his post-sex bliss to ask more.

“Who are you? You won’t tell me anything, anything at all? How do you know my mom? Are you, like, one of her clients?”

“I don’t pay for sex.”

I knew I should probably let his confession annoy me a bit, even moreso when I imagined that this man who was currently rubbing my clit out of habit was likely her newest lover, but I couldn’t be bothered to care. We were just fucking now, not exchanging wedding vows. It didn’t mean anything, what we had been doing. Even if it actually did mean something. Maybe everything.

“Did you fall in love with her or something, then?” I asked, my heart pricked on a thorn of envy, bleeding in my chest.

He was silent for a while, then admitted. “I do care for her a great deal. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I rushed to say, suddenly not wanting to know any more. “I won’t tell her anything. I swear. Just…”

“Yes?”

“I guess I don’t like to be called a whore. Or to be paid for sex.”

“Then I guess I am keeping the million dollars all for myself,” he laughed, but there was no joy in it.

Something had changed with the mention of my mom. I could feel it in the rigidity of his body and the heaviness in my chest.

“We should get going,” he said and I took the hint and got off his dick for good.

When he pulled over, one final time, the air had gotten incredibly chilly, making me think it was night time.

“This is it.”

He helped me out of the car and guided me across a gravel road, leading me into what smelled like a cheap motel room, the scent of tobacco and stale, dust-filled air flooding my nostrils.

I could hear the TV from the adjacent room, something rather porno-sounding, or maybe there was actually a couple in there, getting it on quite enthusiastically.

“What is this place?” I asked, my body remembering how his touches had felt every time the woman moaned.

I was so not ready to return him to my mother. And maybe he felt the same way. After all… a motel? He had to have brought me here to fuck me again, no? He could have his way with me, still as roughly if that was his preference. Just once or twice before everything would come to an abrupt end.

For the first time in many years, my skin wasn’t haunted by Antonio’s touches. I could still feel him, my dark stranger, fucking me like he’d never had a pussy in his entire life.

I wanted him to take me again, to help me forget Antonio’s nightly humiliations.

I was just turning around to steal another kiss from his lips and urge him to touch me again, when I heard a woman’s voice coming from behind me.

“Sarai!”

I froze on my tiptoes, thankful that the man had had the presence of mind to steady me with his strong arms. He was the only thing currently keeping me upright.

“Mom?”

The blood in my veins ran cold and I shrugged myself loose of his hold. I took a few steps forward, until I bumped into the woman’s shaking frame.

“Sarai, thank God!”

“Keep your voice down,” the man growled.

I couldn’t let her see me like this, what was this man thinking, bringing me to her without even a shirt on?

“Oh my God, baby, what happened to you?”

I could feel her worried hands all over my body, checking that I was whole, arms and legs all accounted for, and I braced myself for when she’d realize I had nothing underneath that bed sheet I was clinging onto. I fought against her, wanting to keep myself covered, but she insisted on removing it.

And then she let out a despaired wail.

“My poor girl,” she cried and took me in her arms.

“Mom?” I asked, confused. Wasn’t she going to blame her lover for my naked state? Or was she that infatuated with him, she could not imagine him cheating on her? I was torn between panic and outrage, jealousy.

“I told you to hurry, Dom, I told you that monster was going to rape her!”

She screamed, enraged.

Dom?

“I am sorry, Cynthia. You have no idea how sorry I am about everything that has happened.”

I felt like his words were more for my ears, than hers. He had left them intentionally cryptic.

“Don’t apologize to me, say that to your daughter, whom you’ve failed. All you do is fail us.”

Dom.

Dominic.

My father.

I had forced my father to fuck me and he… he had really done it. And then we had fucked each other because we had liked it so much. I had had my daddy’s cock in my mouth and pussy and he had… I had… Oh God.

I passed out in the middle of mom screaming at daddy for failing me.

She had no idea what we’d done.

She could never know.

Never.

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Hazel Grace

Hazel Grace

I'm Anna, nice to meet you! I like to write incest erotica under the pen name Hazel Grace. My literary tastes run pretty wild, definitely taboo, somewhat more sexually aggressive than most, so if you're willing to experience a different, more vibrant and off the beaten path kind of erotica, come read what I publish.

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