Chapter 6
For a long moment, the raven-haired adolescent stood facing her bed, her hands industriously rubbing and soothing her furiously smarting bottom through the thin cotton skirt. Then, with a sob, she moved to the bathroom, turned on the light, and, lifting the skirt, turned herself sideways so that she could see in the mirror the reflection of Mary Carruthers' harsh penance added to what Father Edmund had so shockingly inflicted. She gasped at the blazing hue which left not an inch of her voluptuous young behind in its immaculate, satiny olive-hued state. The untouched glory of her bare thighs made the contrast even more spectacular.
Holding up her skirt with one hand, poor Angela soaked a washcloth under the cold-water tap with the other and carefully laved the swollen globes, wincing and squirming, unconsciously performing the most lubricious choreography which would have bewitched a connoisseur of femininity far more than the most flamboyant hula by an Hawaiian dancer.
When at last the angry throbbing seemed to have receded, Angela took a towel and patted herself dry, again wincing and gasping to discover how extraordinarily sensitive her naked behind had become. At the same time, she was shamefully aware of new, sensual waves of hot girlish tingling between her trembling bare legs. Her face turned as red as her bottom. This sensation was what she had experienced while watching her mother and Father Edmund on the bed, and then her own father with Betsy, and finally, despite the pain of her distended rectal channel, the naughtily thrilling feelings Father Edmund had roused counter to the pain by touching her little peepee button - for such, till now, was the naive term virginal Angela used to describe her own sensitive clitoris!
At last, when the pain seemed to have subsided, Angela put on a white cotton petticoat, her skirt and blouse, washed her face in cold water and dried it, and then warily opened the door of her room. Maybe Daddy would console her. He was sure to be resting after his overtime work which he'd brought home, and maybe this time he wouldn't have had too many drinks so that he could talk to her. After all, she knew she had always been his very-special favorite. Even though she was an only child, it had always been definite that Daddy seemed to treat her much nicer than Mother did - certainly Daddy had never spanked her.
Maybe, too, she could feel him out and find out what was happening. Why was it that Father Edmund was coming to visit Mother and had done that awful thing earlier today. And also why Daddy was being such close friends and doing naughty things with her own girlfriend Betsy.
Hurrying down the hall and fervently hoping that her mother wouldn't take it into her head to come looking for her or to go see Daddy, Angela made her way to the room where her father did his advertising work. The door was closed, so she tapped softly. There wasn't any answer at first. Her heart beating faster and looking nervously down the hall in the direction of the kitchen, she knocked a little louder.
The door was flung open and Fred Carruthers stood scowling, a glass of bourbon in one hand, a cigarette in the other, wearing a pair of slacks, slippers and an undershirt.
"Angie ... what's the matter, baby? Come on in. I know, you wanted to visit your old dad, is that right?"
"Y-yes, Daddy." Angela quavered.
She moved inside the room and he promptly closed the door, took a puff at his cigarette and eyed her speculatively, a little grin curving his lips.
"C-can I talk to you, if - if I'm not bothering you, Daddy?"
"Sure, my little girl can always talk to her old father. What's bothering you, baby?"
In the room, there was a couch, a table on which a typewriter and stacks of paper and proof galleys were placed, a chair and a bookcase. Fred Carruthers sat down on the couch and crooked his finger at the flushed girl, who lowered her eyes meekly and moved obediently towards him.
"Sit down right here, baby. Now, what's worrying you?"
Angela was about to sit down when the sudden hot discomfort of the spanking was instantly recalled to her just as she prepared to lower herself beside her father. She blushed, straightened and stammered, "D-Daddy, Mommy spanked me just now, because I told her what happened to me in church."
"You make me uncomfortable standing there like that, baby," her father grinned. "Go bring me that glass from the table, that's a good girl. So Mary spanked you, hm?"
"Yes, sir."
Angela moved to the table, noticed that the glass was half-filled and that it smelled like whiskey. She made a covert little face as she handed it to him. Fred Carruthers lifted the glass in acknowledgement, then took a man-sized swig.
"Ahh, that's good! Now, what did happen in church? And why should your mother spank you for going there?"
"Because of what I told her about what Father Edmund did, Daddy. And I'm s-sort of mixed up about what's happening here the last few days," Angela blurted, her face reddening even more as she kept her eyes demurely on the floor.
"So what did Father Edmund do that bothered you so much, honey?"
He nearly emptied the glass, then set it down on the floor. He looked speculatively up at her with a funny little grin.
"M-Mother said I lied about it, but I didn't, honest I didn't, Daddy," she said defensively, still not able to look up at him. "He spanked me, too, and then - then he did something to me."
"Oh come on, honey. That's a tall story and you don't expect me to believe it!"
"Daddy, it's true, honest. Only I don't want to get Father Edmund into trouble. After I'd confessed, he came out of the booth and - and made me come into the sacristy. Then he said I was very n-naughty - and he spanked me, honest."
Angela was ready to cry. She had never looked more delicious, her charming face crimson, her long lashes fluttering, her nostrils dilating and her firm young breasts rising and falling erratically against her middy blouse.
Her father reached out suddenly, caught her by the wrist and pulled her down on his lap. Angela uttered a squeal of discomfort and squirmed fretfully as the sudden pressure of her tender bottom against his sinewy thighs rekindled all the heat of her mother's chastisement.
"Stay still, baby, or I'll spank you myself," her father muttered thickly in her ear. "Put your arm round my neck - that's a good girl. Now then, tell your old father all about it. We can keep a secret, just the two of us, can't we, Angie sweetheart?"
His sudden affection and the sound of sympathy in his voice persuaded the distraught and embarrassed young virgin to confide in her father.
In a low, faltering voice, Angela began, "He - he said I - I'd been very naughty and had to do penance. And then he put me over his lap and pulled up my s-skirt and took down my panties and spanked me, Daddy. And after that, he - he did something to me. It was awfully wicked, but I didn't know what to do. Please, Daddy, I'm so scared, and Mommy's mad at me."
"He must have had a reason for saying you were naughty, baby. What did you confess to him?"
"Oh, D-Daddy," Angela groaned, squirming uneasily on his lap.
"I have to know, honey, before I can say that he didn't have a right to treat my little girl that way. Come on, just tell your old dad," he urged.
His arm was round her waist, his other hand was patting her bare knee. He had somehow managed to ruck up her cotton skirt just enough to expose an inch or two of warm, satiny thigh.
"All I told him was - was what I'd seen, Daddy. And that I-I - well, I did something I shouldn't have, when I saw it. That's all, honest," she managed after a hesitant pause.
His right hand slipped a little higher along her bare thigh, gently stroking and pinching the vibrant young, bare flesh. Angela squirmed again, put a hand over his, wanting to pull his hand away but without being bold enough. After all, it was her own father, and she had turned to him in desperation for help in her agonizing quandry.
"Well now, pet, just what was it you did see that made Father Edmund so angry he had to spank my pretty girl?" Fred Carruthers jovially demanded, his voice was an insinuating whisper into Angela's dainty ear.
As his arm tightened possessively round her slim waist, his right hand moved still farther under her skirt, to about the middle of her springy-flesh.
The brunette squirmed again, her face redder than ever, glancing almost supplicatingly at his hidden hand under her thin skirt. Then she stammered, "I saw him with a g-grownup woman, Daddy. In - in bed - " Angela had, at the last moment, resolved not to tell him the identity of that woman, and she had also determined not to admit that she had also seen her father with Betsy.
One can conjecture the shocked surprise she felt when, with a lewd chuckle, his right hand rising even higher along her bare thigh, Fred Carruthers muttered, "You mean, you saw Father Edmund with your mother, isn't that right, baby doll?"
"Ohh Daddy - I didn't mean that. I mean, I - ohhh please - Daddy - I-I haven't got any p-panties on. Please, your hand - it - please, Daddy - " she gasped.
She tried to wriggle free of his hold, for by now his roving hand had reached the velvety inside of her left thigh only a few inches away from the most cherished spot of all.
"No panties, Angie girl? That's just fine. Remember the other afternoon, I told you your Mommy and I had a deal? Well, you're getting to be a big girl now, and you're old enough to know what goes on in life, not just what the good sisters tell you in class. Understand me, baby?"
"Daddy - your hand - please - you shouldn't touch me OH NOT THERE, DADDY!"
With a wail, Angela fairly scrambled off her father's lap. Just then he poked a fingertip into the silky black bush of her maiden cunthole.
"Now you come back here on my lap, you naughty girl, or I'll spank you good and hard," Fred Carruthers threatened, scowling at the blushing teenager as she faced him, her face scarlet to forehead and ears from the furious embarrassment of his incestuous caress.
"Oh Daddy!" She burst into tears, crushed by the injustice of that threat. "Mother already did that to me, and I came here to ask you to help me and explain why all of a sudden I'm being punished for nothing, all because I happened to see things that weren't my fault at all. Please, Daddy, don't be mad at me."
"I will be, young lady, unless you get right back here on my lap!"
Sniffling and more confused than ever, lovely, blushing Angela hesitantly returned to the edge of the bed. Her father seized her and pulled her down on his lap, his arm curving round her waist to hold her snugly to him. Again his right hand returned to her bare dimpled knee, sliding under the skirt and at once stroking the middle of her warm, palpitating bare thigh.
"Please don't," she whispered, dying of shame.
"It's time you got over some of your silly little girl ideas, honey," he said gruffly, his penis already throbbing violently at the feel of her bottom squirming over his lap. Once again the contact of her well-spanked buttocks - protected by only the thin skirt - against his thighs made her wince at the excruciating sensitivity it aroused. "Now I want you to kiss me nice and sweet right on the mouth because you're my girl!"
Timidly, her face again flooding with hot crimson, Angela passively offered her mouth. Fred Carruthers slid his left arm up to her shoulders to press her forward as his mouth hungrily took hers. His right hand delved into the thick bush of her virgin cunt. His fingertips tickling the fleshy soft lips. Angela's eyes widened enormously, a look of alarm and distress contorted her exquisitely piquant face. She tried to wriggle off his lap again, but his left arm pinned her tightly as his tongue now pried between her trembling lips and tasted her girlish nectar in a long, lecherous French kiss.
"Mmmmmm - D-Daddy - d-don't - you m-mustn't." she breathed, completely scandalized by now.
Her hands rushed to her skirt to try to grasp his wrist under it and prevent his further assault on her intimate parts, but his fingers were too well planted, and his forefinger, moreover, had found the lodestone of her maiden clitoris and was rubbing it.
"N oooo ! Ohh please, Daddy - w-why are you doing such awful things to me?" she moaned, frantically clutching his wrist with both hands and trying to pull it back from its hiding place under the thin cotton skirt.
"What a sweet little pussy you've got, baby," he said thickly.
His face was florid with lust and again he silenced her timid outcry by gluing his mouth to hers and forcing his tongue deeply inside, slushing it about to rasp against her own dainty pink membrane.
Angela was beside herself, arching and weaving her hips, desperately trying to slip off his lap, but unable to. Her nostrils flaring and shrinking, Angela clenched her long supple thighs together with all her young strength in a supreme effort to prevent his salacious manipulation. But it was in vain. His fingertip was rolling and rubbing her clit back and forth. Furious waves of tingling sensuality started to invade the young girl's maiden loins, already so wildly stimulated by Father Edmund's conquest of her nether maidenhead and her mother's burning chastisement. Sobbing softly, she could only endure her father's will and pray that he would at last release her.
But Fred Carruthers, reveling in the feel of her moistening, soft young cuntal lips, their excited palpitation and the discernible stiffening of the button he was tweaking and frictioning with a quicker pace now, had no intention of sparing Angela this further maiden martyrdom. His penis was violently turgid by this time, and each wriggling movement of her smarting bottom over his lap forced her to be aware of his powerful virility by continuous prodding.
She closed her eyes. Her young, firm breasts rose and fell and long spasms flexed through her clenched, shuddering thighs as she fought with all her might to prevent the shameful surrender to his artful frigging. Her fingers still dug into his wrists through her skirt, but made no further attempt to drag them away. It was as if she had resigned herself, cowed to this mortifying surrender by her dread of another spanking following so swiftly after her mother's painful punishment.
Fred Carruthers, rampant with rut, arched himself to glory in the feeling of his stiff ramrod's prodding Angela's jouncy behind. At the same time he kissed her greedily and again slipped his tongue between her lips. His left arm lowered and stealthily his hand cupped the outer edge of Angela's left breast. Her gray-green eyes opened to stare reproachfully at him. Her involuntary movement allowed his foraging forefinger to probe as far as it could go into her tender virgin vulva till he felt the definitive barrier of her cherry. Angela gasped and winced as her daddy jabbed tentatively at it, testing its resilience, and then again returned just the tip of that wandering digit to frig her burgeoning clit with quick little proddings that made Angela writhe and gasp as the waves of licentious attunement began to sweep through her well developed young body.
Suddenly, despite all her feverish attempts to hold back against the treacherous inroads of this stimulation, Angela's lithe body stiffened, jerked, and her legs kicked wildly to and fro as her bottom weaved and ground and twisted all over his lap.
With a moaning "Ohh, D - Daddy - ohh Lordie - ooooh !" she felt her insides churn and the black wave of sweet release roll over her.
Instinctively, her arms flung round her father's shoulders to steady herself from fainting and falling. She bowed her head against his chest and exhaled her girlish climax.
"Ah ha!" Fred Carruthers gloatingly muttered, his left hand lowering to squeeze and caress her jouncy buttocks through the thin skirt. "Father Edmund was right to make you do penance, you naughty little bitch you! At your age, to act so sexy with your old father! I'm ashamed of you, young lady! I think you've earned yourself a good, sound tanning with my belt on your bare bottom!"
"Oh nooooo ! Oh don't spank me any more, Daddy. I couldn't stand it, it still hurts from Mommy!" she cried out in despair, regarding him with big teary eyes, her lips trembling and her beautiful young breasts wildly rising and falling in the aftermath of her involuntary orgasm which his cleverly frigging finger had brought about.
"I'll let you off only on one condition, young lady," he said sternly, patting her bottom and giving her a lecherous smirk. "Otherwise, you can just get over my lap and pull your skirt up high as you can get it."
"Oh, anything, Daddy. I'll do anything if you only won't spank me more," she groaned.
"All right. I'm going to lie down. I want you to get on the bed and kneel before me, Angela," he ordered.
Suiting action to word, Fred Carruthers swung himself onto the bed on his back, tugged the zipper on his slacks and his long, angrily reddened penis shot out in all its full erection, the lips puckering with the pentup flow of gismic outpouring. Angela's eyes were hypnotically fixed on that object which she had already seen in Betsy's bedroom. She put a trembling hand to her gaping mouth to suppress the horrified, stifled cry drawn to her lips by such an obscene exhibition.
"I said to kneel beside me, young lady. Or do I have to use my belt after all?" he impatiently demanded.
With a fretful whimper of despair, the blushing, young brunette sank to her knees before him, her eyes still riveted to his bulging penis.
"Now, As I told you before, young lady," he said lazily, his pulse pounding as he stared hungrily at the trembling girl. "You're old enough to act like a woman. And what just happened to you when I tickled you with my finger, you naughty little bitch, is proof of that. So don't start trying to beg off, or your bottom will be soundly thrashed till you can't sit down for a month, do you understand?"
"Y-yes, Daddy. Oh why are you so mean to me?" she whimpered.
"Stop that sort of talk. I told you! Now do you see this, Angela?"
"Y-yes - " Her voice was so faint he could hardly hear it.
"Come here, bend your head down, take hold of it with your soft little fingers, and give the nice hard red tip a tender loving kiss as a dutiful, obedient daughter should," was his next order.
"OHHHH ! OHH DADDY, YOU CAN'T M ... M ... MEAN THAT!"
"Then I'll just slip my belt out of my slacks here, and you can get your disobedient bottom ready for swats, Angela," he growled, putting a hand to the black leather belt.
With a wail of fear and shame, poor blushing Angela at once crawled to her father. Her trembling little fingers gingerly circled his throbbing, turgid shaft, and her head bowed down slowly over the proffered glans, bulbous and angrily swollen.
"Kiss it!" he hissed.
Closing her eyes, shuddering with nausea and shame, the young girl slowly obeyed. Her lips brushed the tip of his cockhead and Fred Carruthers groaned with delight at the sweet torment that chaste, unwilling kiss shot through his groin, nearly making him shoot his seething spunk.
"Mmmmm, you darling, that's the way. Now keep kissing it and open your lips a little and just take the tip inside, Angie baby," he instructed.
"Oh, Daddy, don't make me do an awful thing like t-that!" the shocked young girl stammered, blushing almost all the way down to her panting young breasts.
"Do you want me to call your mother in here and hold you while I thrash your naughty behind, Angela?" he scolded.
"Oh nooo !" she sobbed.
Conquering her revulsion and despairing shame, Angela bowed down her head and forced herself to apply a longer, noisier kiss on the throbbing tip of her father's cockhead.
"Daddy!" She tried a last time to talk him out of forcing her to this abomination. "What if Mommy comes in. She - she'll whip me hard if she catches me doing this to you. Oh, please don't make me do it any more. Please, Daddy dear!"
"We'll both whip you good if you don't do it right now, that's all I'm telling you, Angie," Fred Carruthers panted, half-sitting up so he could grip the back of Angela's soft neck with both hands to keep her kneeling before his upright, aching cock. "Now you just take it in your mouth and suck at it, Angie, the way you would a lollypop, young lady! Do it unless you want the belt on your bare seat!"
Angela's mind was staggered by the enormity of what her own father was making her do. She remembered that it was exactly what her girlfriend Betsy had been doing to him. Yet the thought of a belt thrashing on her still sore bottom was even more dreadful, and Angela's moral code, acquired out of parental strictness and the teachings of her dutiful churchgoing, began to waver.
With a helpless sob, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut as if to pretend that it was not she who was doing it. Her trembling lips-parted. She groped for his cockhead with them till she felt it press against her teeth. With a whimper she surrendered, opened her lips still more and felt the spearpoint of his turgid weapon enter the sweet virgin sanctuary of her mouth ... and thus lost her second maidenhead within the single span of a day!
"Ahhh, that's nice, darling. Now do it slow and easy," her father panted, spreading his thighs as far apart as he could to intensify the thrilling lustful sensations of watching her obey and feeling her soft moist lips cling to the bulging tip of his prick. "Suck, sweetheart. Suck so I can hear you do it, or I'll use my belt. I swear I will, Angie girl. As hard as I can!"
With that Damoclean threat hanging over her quivering, still throbbing posterior, Angela cast aside her scruples and applied a noisy, slushing, sucking kiss to her father's cockhead. She gagged and jerked away, but his fingers bit into her neck to compel obedience as he urged, in a thickened, shuddering voice, "Oh no you don't. You tricky little bitch, you just keep sucking away if you know what's good for you !"
Choking and gasping, unused to the taste or size of the noxious tidbit inside her trembling and no longer virginal mouth, the girl did her best to avert more physical suffering for her still smarting bottom. The way she squirmed on her bare knees as she crouched before her father indicated not only moral anguish but also continued discomfort from the slightest movement of her bewitchingly contoured posterior. Even the thin skirt kept reminding Angela of her mother's unmerited punishment. As her muscles contracted in this demeaning posture, the sensitivity and tingling in her anus served to recall the shocking usage Father Edmund had made of that dainty narrow channel.
"Now start rubbing your cute little tongue over my prick, Angie girl," she heard her father's hoarse, lust-thickened voice decree.
At the same time, his fingers dug into the tender back of her neck, imparting the need for instant compliance. With a long sigh of despair, poor Angela rasped her pink tongue along one side of the swollen glans and along the groove, drawing an immediate groan of ecstasy from her enchanted father. To give himself the glorious feeling of being a sultan commanding a helpless virgin slavegirl, he released her neck but only to take her earlobes between thumbs and forefingers and thus force her head well down over his turgid, aching prick, also forcing her with the sudden jerk of his fingers made to take even more of his swollen cock inside her gagging mouth. Her eyes rolled wildly, her nostrils flickered and dilated as she fought for breath, and the singular taste of her father's prick made her stomach gurgle in protest - a protest she dared not make more evident.
Fortunately for her waning stamina before all these ordeals which crowded in on her virginal flesh and spirit in the short span of a few hours, the excitement she was causing Fred Carruthers proved too much for his self control. Suddenly, with a bellow of lust, he cried out, "Get ready and swallow me down, you sweet bitch - nowwwww !" and launched a bubbling torrent of hot sticky spunk into her mouth.
Choking frantically, Angela managed to swallow about half of it down before he sensed her reluctance.
"Suck it all up, lick it clean and swallow every drop or you'll get that belting, Angie baby!"
Groaning and trembling, squirming restlessly about on her knees, the helpless brunette teenager managed to obey, and at last he released her, sinking back on the bed with a delighted sigh of fulfillment.
"Okay, honey, you did fine for a first time. Now go to your room. Mother'll bring you your supper on a tray."
Her face scarlet, averted from him - for she did not dare look at his now drooping, greasied prick sticking out of the fly of his slacks. Angela Carruthers stumbled out of the room and made her way back to her own, closing the door. Then she flung herself on her bed and burst into heartfelt tears of poignant woe, sure that she was damned forever, forsaken not only by her own father confessor - and betrayed by him so cruelly - but also by her own parents ...