Chapter 9

It was three weeks after the day Karen told Ron how it had to be, and he had been something of a problem. She hadn't told Daddy about it, but she thought he suspected. Ron kept trying to corner her at school and talk things out with her, although, as she had told him, everything had been talked out and decided that day in his car. She was sure she could make him accept things eventually, but it was a lot harder than she had thought it would be when she had promised Daddy.

On a Tuesday afternoon, when she had rushed home from school, careful not to run into Ron, the phone rang in the office and she picked it up and said into the mouthpiece, "Doctor Arthur's office," as she always did.

"Karen?" The voice of Linda Davis sang back at her like an echo, very much like her own. "This is Mrs. Davis. May I speak to your father?"

"Well, he's pretty busy right now, Mrs. Davis," Karen said, feeling a chill of apprehension, though she didn't know why. "Is there any message I can give him?"

"It will only take a moment," Mrs. Davis said. Then, with a little laugh, "It has nothing to do with you, dear, if that's what you're worried about."

"Oh, no. I mean, I didn't think anything of the kind," Karen stammered, out of control of herself. "I'll see if he can speak to you, Ma'am."

She put Mrs. Davis on hold and rang through to Daddy on another line.

"Okay, put her on," Daddy said in a disinterested tone when she had told him of the call. Karen put through the call, but kept the line open, so that she could hear the conversation.

"That's right," Daddy said. "When is it?"

Karen could hear him leafing through his appointment book.

"Next Saturday night at eight. I do hope you can make it, Doctor. I'd like to talk to you a bit, and perhaps get to know you a little better."

Something shot through Karen's loins at those last words, but she calmed herself an instant later. It was a natural enough thing to say, she supposed, and if Mrs. Davis really was getting interested in Daddy, Daddy would politely put her in her place. She knew Daddy's appointment book well enough to know that he had nothing important to do on Saturday night, and so he would probably agree to chaperon the dance. As a leading citizen in the town, he was expected to do some little things like that from time to time, and he had always done more than his share. That was one of the reasons he was so well liked and so highly respected in the community.

"All right," he said finally. "I guess I can show up on Saturday night. But you understand that I'll have to tell my answering service where I am, and in case of an emergency I'll have to leave without notice."

"Oh, I understand," Mrs. Davis said. "My father was a small-town doctor."

"Really?" Daddy's voice quickened with interest.

"Sure, so I've been around all that sort of thing. Don't worry about it. I'll be looking forward to seeing you, and bring Karen along. She can help out with things a little maybe, and even find time for a dance or two."

"Okay," Daddy said, and Karen thought that he sounded more interested than he usually did at such invitations.

It took Karen a long while after the two had hung up to understand what this new emotion was that she felt. It was jealousy, and she had to chuckle at herself over that. If any girl had ever had reason to feel secure in the love of her man, it was she. Daddy had raised her up to be exactly what he wanted, and by his own words she knew that she had turned out better than he had expected. Why would he go chasing an unknown and probably inferior quantity when he had her at his beck and call? It just didn't make sense. But she couldn't help the illogical pang she felt. She decided that she would kiddingly tell Daddy about it sometime before the dance. He'd probably be pleased....

The night of the dance Karen felt really excited. She put on a formal she had never had a chance to wear. It had been hanging in her closet, with moth crystals inside a big plastic bag, for nearly a year, since Daddy had refused to let her go to the junior prom. She had bought it with her own money, on impulse, and had been brokenhearted about not being allowed to go the prom. But now she'd be able to wear it at long last, and if everyone thought she was coming without a real date, it would be a good laugh on them, because she had the dreamiest date of all, her own sexy father. And when the dance was over, she'd be going home with him, and then to bed with him, and they'd end the night with a climax, literally, instead of a chocolate malted at the malt shop.

The dance was scheduled to begin at eight o'clock. Daddy and Karen arrived at seven-thirty. Karen had to admire Mrs. Davis' looks when she was dressed up a bit. In school she seemed to try to play down her sexiness, though not with complete success. But tonight she was dressed in a lemon-colored satin dress, with her blonde hair flowing down around her shoulders, and she looked prettier than any girl in the place. Karen could see that Daddy was impressed with her looks, too, and it was all she could do to keep from taking his arm possessively. She had to tell herself silently that she had nothing to worry about, that there were no rivals for her father's affections. She knew that was true, but it was an intellectual thing, and her emotions kept contradicting her.

"Karen, would you like to help out with the refreshments tonight?" Mrs. Davis asked. allowed herself to be led over to the refreshment table. She didn't want to leave Daddy's side, but of course, she couldn't very well hang on him all evening. She was put to work mixing punch and sorting cookies on little dishes. She looked up every once in a while to see what Daddy and Mrs. Davis were doing. They were walking around the big auditorium, talking to each other with obvious interest. Daddy said something and Mrs. Davis laughed, and her face lit up with a beauty that was greater than usual. Daddy's face lit up in return, and Karen felt a stab of icy doubt that tore at her insides like a frosty blade.

The kids were starting to trickle into the place in couples and fours. They were all flushed with happiness and excitement, and for just a moment Karen felt a shot of melancholy envy for the kind of youth they had and she could never share. But she squelched the feeling instantly. It was an unworthy thought. She had so much more than they did, so much more than they would ever have, and she'd had it for much longer.

Things got busy. Karen ladled out punch and handed out cookies and turned down offers to dance. That she kept getting the offers made her happy and proud, but she knew better than to accept any of them. Daddy might not like it, and she wasn't going to take any chances where Daddy's feelings were concerned. She had learned her lesson and her place in the scheme of things, and she would never try to break out of that mold again, even a little bit.

She was so busy that when she noticed that Daddy was gone she had no idea of how long he had been missing from the dance floor. She glanced around at all the folding chairs that sat along the walls, but Daddy wasn't in any of them.

She wondered if he had been called to some patient's house, and had had to leave so quickly he couldn't even take time to tell her. That wasn't likely, because he would almost always be able to come over and tell her where he was going and she had a feeling that he would have taken her with him tonight, rather than leave her on her own. But the fact remained that he was nowhere to be seen.

Of course, he might have left her there just to show that he was confident of her faithfulness and obedience now. He might have asked someone to tell her where he was going, and then that someone could have forgotten to carry the message to her. The logical person for Daddy to have told would have been Mrs. Davis, of course, but Karen couldn't see her anywhere, either. It wasn't easy trying to look for someone when she was handing out refreshments, so she finally got someone else to help out in her place and went searching for Mrs. Davis. She made three complete circuits of the auditorium, but Mrs. Davis was nowhere to be seen. Finally Karen decided to go outside and look for her.

The night had grown pretty cold, and she knew that she ought to go back inside for her coat, but by that time she was too concerned about finding either Daddy or Mrs. Davis to worry about something like that.

She looked around the immediate area, but saw no one. So she went to the parking lot and searched there, thinking that Mrs. Davis, as a chaperon, might have thought it wise to check around there to make sure no one was making out in a back seat.

She didn't find Mrs. Davis there, either.

She was walking down one of the pathways between the rows of parked vehicles when she heard someone come up behind her. The footsteps were the heavy tread of a man, but it didn't even occur to Karen to look around to see who it was until a voice, deep but young, jolted her from her preoccupation.

"Looking for someone, Karen?"

She spun around, half-recognizing the voice and half just startled by the suddenness of the wrench from her own private concerns. It was Ron, of course. He stood there in the moonlight, dressed in casual clothes. She realized for the first time that she hadn't seen him at the dance. Probably too broken up over her to ask anyone else to accompany him, and, of course, too proud to go stag, she thought. Well, that was his problem, and she didn't have time or energy to waste feeling sorry for him right now. She looked around quickly. Then, managing an impersonal smile, she said, "Yes, I was looking for my father-or Mrs. Davis. Have you seen either of them, Ron?"

"Sure." He said it so quickly, and so offhandedly, that it never occurred to Karen to doubt the statement. "I saw your father over there," he said, making a gesture with his hand. "I guess he was checking the grounds. You want to talk to him?"

Karen felt a sudden flood of relief, though she wasn't sure why; then she realized that there was nothing in particular she wanted to talk about with Daddy. But now that she had made a big thing out of finding him, she supposed that she should go and talk to him, if only to keep Ron from wondering about things.

"Yes, could you show me where he is?" she asked as calmly as she could. She was surprised at just how cool her voice sounded.

"Sure. Right over here." Ron led the way between the parked cars, heading off toward the back of the lot, toward the athletic grounds. His long stride set a pace that forced Karen to trot in order to keep up with him. She had to lift the skirt of her long dress in order to keep it from dragging on the ground, and she almost tripped over it several times.

She found herself right at the back edge of the parking lot, with no one else around except Ron, and the auditorium so far away that the music from the rock group there was nearly lost in the distance.

Karen looked around for a second, trying to see where Daddy might be, perhaps between a couple of cars. Then it occurred to her that Ron had brought her here under false pretenses, and for a reason of his own, a reason not too hard to guess. She started back toward the auditorium, but before she could go two steps Ron had grabbed her arm. She gasped for breath from the tightness of his grasp, and he loosened it a bit, as though he hadn't realized that he had grabbed her so hard.

"Karen, I want to talk to you a minute," he said.

"Ron, we don't have anything to talk about. Now-"

"Just a moment's conversation; that's all I'm asking," he said. "Is that too much?"

"But it won't do any good." She tried to pull free, but his grip tightened again, harder than before. Karen realized that it wouldn't do any good to argue with him. He was going to have his talk, and from the look on his face she was afraid he might hurt her if she tried to get away. So she forced herself to relax. "All right, Ron," she said. "So we'll talk. Just for a minute."

"My car's right here," he said. "Get in."

She saw the Chevy sitting there, and drew back.

"Oh, no," she said. "If you want to talk, we'll talk right here. Otherwise, let go of my arm."

"It's cold out here, and you don't have a coat. Get in the car, damn it! I'm not going to hurt you."

"I didn't say you were. But I'm not about to be shanghaied by you."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," he grunted. "Is that what you think? Look, here's the keys." He let go of her arm and fished a key chain out of his pocket. "Now will you get in with me?" Karen hesitated for a moment, then took the keys. She couldn't see any harm in getting into the car with him provided she had the keys. And just in case Daddy was around somewhere, he'd be less likely to see her with Ron if she was in the car.

"All right," she said, snagging the key chain and holding it close to her body, hidden by the folds of her dress. They got into the car and she turned to Ron to see what it was he was going to say. But he didn't speak a work. Instead, he reached across the width of the Chevy and made a grab for her. Karen drew back, but the car door was closed and she couldn't get out of reach. Ron's hands closed over her arms and held her tightly, and he slid over the vinyl seat to come closer to her.

When he did speak, it was only to say, "Karen, damn it, Karen, I love you so much, I just can't-"

She fought, trying to wriggle free of his grip long enough to get the car door open, but he was as fast as he was strong. When she managed to get one of his hands off of her, he would slip it back before she could wriggle free of the other. She gasped and grunted with effort, but it was useless. Ron's hands seemed to be everywhere at once, all over her. She couldn't avoid them, and she couldn't fight them off, and despite herself she found her body responding to their insistent stimulation.

"Ron, let me go!" she hissed, but he acted as though he hadn't heard her.

His hands continued their efforts to expose and possess her, one of them slipping down the front of her dress, the other reaching up under the long, voluminous skirt, groping along her legs toward her crotch. Her heart beat wildly, her pussy gushed its juices, and she felt a tingling all over her skin. A creeping weakness moved along her limbs, and she felt her will power weakening, too. She had loved Ron, and there was still a spark of that love left, and even though she knew she was doing wrong in feeling as she did, she couldn't help the desire that his ministrations had instilled in her.

Then she remembered Daddy, and how he had trusted her, had probably left the auditorium without her because he had trusted her so implicitly. She belonged to Daddy, and she had no right to let this boy take what wasn't hers to give. Suddenly she felt her arms and legs grow strong again, at least for a moment, and her resolve grew with that strength. She felt herself pushed back off balance by Ron, while his hands pulled her skirt up above her waist. He was trying to pull down her pantyhose, but the act of pulling her skirt up had freed her legs from the binding of the dress material.

She saw that he had opened the front of his pants, caught just a glimpse of his erect prick and two tightened balls. As he tried to mount her, the pantyhose still only partially lowered, she saw that the position was right ... Karen brought up her right knee with all the force she could muster, and it hit square, smashing his nuts against his crotch.

"Aaaaahhhh!" he screamed, the sound strangled and garbled by pain and surprise. He tried to draw away from her, but not quickly enough. Karen was filled with a savage joy at the realization that she had hurt him, had made him hesitate, and she still wasn't certain that she had driven him away. He was off balance, and in pain, and still hadn't been able to pull back when she brought the same knee up again, this time with even greater force. At the same time she lashed out with her hand, raking her nails across his cheek and making a triple line of bloody tracks across his handsome face.

Ron leaned over the edge of the seat and deposited on the floorboard whatever he'd had for dinner. Karen could smell the acrid stink of the vomit, though miraculously, none of it got on her dress.

She reached behind her, found the door handle and yanked it up hard. The door flew open, driven by her weight, and she slid partly out of the car, headfirst. She managed to pull her feet out and get them under her, and then she was crouched beside the vehicle. The car keys, which had been lying somewhere on her person during the struggle, slid onto the ground in front of her and she kicked them under the car with an angry punt. Then she managed to reach under her skirt and pull her pantyhose up into place.

She left him still retching on the floorboard of his car, and went back to the auditorium, stopping halfway to gather control of herself and brush her haif back into some semblance of order with her hands.

When she reached the auditorium it was nearly empty, and she realized with a start that it was after eleven o'clock. The kids were all going out to their cars. Karen looked around frantically, trying to find some sign of Daddy. But he was nowhere to be seen. She found Mitzi Bradley and her date about to leave, and ran up to Mitzi.

"Have you seen my father?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm and reasonable.

Mitzi looked at her a bit strangely for a moment, as though she couldn't make out what was unusual about Karen's manner.

"No, I haven't seen him, Karen," she said. She turned to her date, a boy Karen didn't know. "Did you see Doctor Arthur, Len?"

"Not in the last couple of hours," the boy said.

"Did you come with him?" Mitzi asked, and Karen was sure she heard a note of pity in her voice.

"Yes. I guess I'll just have to wait until he shows up."

"You could come with us," Mitzi offered.

"Come on, Mitzi," Len said. "The whole gang is going to the malt shop."

"How about it?" Mitzi asked.

"Would you take me right home?"

"Why don't you come to the malt shop with us and have a Coke or something?" Mitzi suggested.

"No. No, I'd better wait for Daddy. I'll go look in front and see if our car is still there."

"Are you coming, Mitzi?" Len asked impatiently.

"Well, how about it?" Mitzi asked, edging away from Karen and following her date.

"I ... All right," Karen agreed. "But just drop me off as close to my house as you can, will you?"

They went to Len's car, or probably his parents' car. It was a year-old Pontiac. Len and Mitzi got into the front seat, and Karen slid into the back.

All the way home they tried to talk her into going to the malt shop with them. Mitzi really seemed to want her along, but Karen had the feeling that Len just didn't want to waste the time taking her home. When they passed the corner that was nearest to her street, Karen put up a fuss.

"I told you to let me off here," she said. "I'll find my way home."

"Now don't be silly, Karen," Mitzi said. "You come with us. It'll only take a half-hour to have a Coke with everybody and you'll enjoy it."

"No!" Karen shrieked, on the raw edge of hysteria. They didn't understand! And they wouldn't listen to her. She grabbed at the door handle, and suddenly the door opened, luckily retarded by the stream of air outside. Still, she leaned forward and nearly fell out.

Len slammed on the brakes, and that made it worse. If Mitzi hadn't reached back and caught her, she might have fallen into the stream of traffic. As it was, a car had to brake hard to keep from hitting the Pontiac.

"Jesus, girl!" Len shouted, obviously frightened out of his wits. "What are you trying to do?"

"Let me go!" Karen shouted. "I want to go home!"

"I'll take you home," Len promised, but Karen still fought. Finally he reached back and grabbed her arm tightly. "I said I'll take you home!" he repeated. "All right?"

Karen looked at him for a moment, still doubtful until reason trickled back into her panicky brain. Then she pulled back into the car and shut the door, drawing into the far corner of the seat and hugging herself protectively.

They had her home in five minutes. There wasn't a word spoken as Karen opened the door and dashed for the house. She heard the car pull away when she was halfway up the walk. She didn't see Daddy's car, but it was possibly in the garage if he was home. He wasn't.

The house was empty. Karen went upstairs and looked in Daddy's bedroom. The bed was neatly made, as she had made it when she had gotten up that morning. She went downstairs again and looked through the whole place, as though Daddy might be hiding from her, playing a cruel joke. Finally, she turned on the TV, and, unaware of what show was flashing before her, she sat and stared blankly until she heard a car pull into the drive a minute or two, or perhaps three hours, later.

Karen came to her feet instantly and stood stock still, every muscle in her body stiff and taut with apprehension. He was going to be furious with her. She just knew it. She had done the wrong thing in leaving. She never should have left the dance without him, or at least without finding out where he was. And she could never lie to him, or keep secrets from him. He was bound to find out about her and Ron, and the incident in the car. She just hoped that she could convince him that nothing had happened beyond Ron's foolish attempt to get their relationship going again by a physical attack.

The key turned in the door, then it opened and Daddy came in. He squinted a little in the lighted house and seemed to take a moment to recognize her. Then he smiled in a vague and friendly way. "Oh, hi, Princess, I'm glad to see you got home all right. Someone give you a ride?" He was taking off his overcoat and hanging it in the hall closet. He pulled the muffler from around his neck and stuffed it into the pocket of the coat, then shrugged off his suit jacket and walked into the living room proper.

Karen was still tightened up with fear that he might blow up at her, or that he might just show his displeasure in some more quiet manner, which would be worse.

"Daddy, I'm sorry," she said, the words tumbling over one another as they came out of her mouth. "I didn't know where you were, and I thought maybe you had left the dance, and I had a chance to get a ride home, but I had to take it right away. I know I shouldn't have left without out, but I-"

"That's all right, Princess." He came to her, took her arms in his hands and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Who brought you home, one of the other chaperons?"

"No," Karen said, and steeled herself for the rest. "It was a couple of my friends. A girl and her date," she added hastily. "They brought me straight home, by the shortest route, Daddy. They wanted me to go to the malt shop with them, but I wouldn't. Honestly, that's the truth."

"Honey, relax, I believe you," he said, and chuckled. He placed his arm about her shoulders and squeezed reassuringly.

For an instant Karen felt an intense, almost painful, flood of relief. He believed her, and he didn't blame her! But then the feeling was replaced by emotions she could hardly identify. She felt a stab of fear, and a strange kind of disappointment, as though she had counted on his anger and distrust as a sign of his love for her. There were other things in the feeling, too, and it was all so mixed up she couldn't really tell what she felt. "You should have gone to the malt shop with your friends," he said. "You could use a little relaxation. You know, I'm not entirely against your having fun with people your own age."

Karen was almost speechless. "I ... I didn't think it was ... that you would want me to do it," she said finally. "I thought I'd better come straight home, in case you were here ... or something."

"Sure." He kissed her on the cheek. "Well, maybe that was best." He released her and stretched and yawned. "Well, I'm about worn out, and we've got a big Saturday ahead of us. I think I'll hit the sack."

"Okay. I'll be right up as soon as I get the lights turned off and things."

"Oh, honey, we're both pretty tired tonight. I think maybe we'd both sleep better alone." He didn't look straight at her as he said these words, and Karen had the feeling that there was more behind them than the fact that they were both tired. A fresh stab of fear went through her.

"All right, Daddy," she said, fighting back tears and not quite avoiding a sob that broke her voice in half.

Daddy acted as though he didn't notice the sob. He turned and started up the stairs, his right hand on the bannister and his suit jacket slung over his left shoulder. "Daddy?" Her voice stopped him, and he turned, still smiling, as though the smile looked frozen. "Where were you tonight? When I couldn't find you?"

"Oh, just ... everywhere. Chaperoning high school kids isn't quite the same as it was when I was in school. These kids nowadays really keep you hopping."

"Oh." It wasn't much of an answer, but it was unthinkable to question him. Karen lowered her gaze and said softly, "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, Princess. Good night." He turned and went up the stairs.

Karen stood in the middle of the room for a long while, and then went about straightening a few things. The TV was still on, and showing some Charlie Chan movie. She walked over listlessly and snapped it off, then went about the room turning off the lights. She walked up the stairs and turned off the overhead light with the two-way switch at the top of the stairs; then she went to her room.

She took off the formal dress that had seemed so lovely earlier in the evening and dropped it on the floor. She had never left clothes lying about like that in her life, but tonight for some reason she couldn't work up the ambition to put anything away. She got out of her pantyhose and shoes, tossed them on top of the dress, then took off her bra and tossed it there, too. She put on her robe and went to the bathroom without bothering to tie the sash. She went through her usual nightly ritual of washing her face and creaming it, wiping it clean and rinsing it and running the brush through her hair, scrubbing her teeth and all the rites of cleanliness and social acceptability without even thinking about any of it. She wasn't aware of anything except a dull ache that seemed to occupy all of her body at once.

She went back to her room and took off her robe and lay down on her bed and cried. She felt the tears coming and she welcomed them, making not the slightest attempt to fight them back. She cried hard, the bed shaking under her with every big, painful sob, the tears running down over her face to fall into her hair or drop to the spread.

He doesn't care. He doesn't even care.

She couldn't shake the thought, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she tried to tell herself that he was just showing that he trusted her, and that the repressive authoritarian chapter of their life together had ended.

He doesn't care. He just doesn't care....

Eventually the crying ceased to help, and the pain grew in her until she just couldn't stand it any longer. Blindly, she heaved herself up from the narrow bed and made her way swayingly to the door. She hit the furniture and the walls, banging her naked thighs and hips roughly, bruisingly against them, not even aware of where she was going, but driven by a blind instinct. All the way down the hall she stumbled from the wall to the railing that protected the stairwell, swerving like a drunken woman until she saw, through tear-clouded eyes, the door to Daddy's room. She opened it and went inside, heard a startled, frightened gasp from him when he saw the state she was in, but she couldn't even see him now, because the tears were crowding out all but a blur of light from her eyes. She made her way to the bed, banging her knee on the corner of the frame.

"Karen!" Daddy's voice was laden with concern, and she felt a stab of relief that at least he cared about her still, cared enough to worry about her.

He was naked, the blankets drawn up to his waist. He had sat upright at her entrance. Karen dropped to her knees beside the bed, dropped so hard that her knee hurt all over again, but she was hardly aware of it. She could only see his cock, lying supine between his legs, resting on the cushion of his scrotum. She took it in her hands, somehow managing to be gentle through the greedy desire that possessed her. She held it upright and began to caress the tip of the prick with her tongue, laving it gently, softly, lovingly, giving him all of her person through the tip of her pink wet tongue. The cock didn't respond at all at first. She had never had trouble getting him hard before, but she was determined to do it no matter what. He must still love me! There was nothing, nothing that had happened that could have killed the way he felt for her. She would make his cock stand up. She would, she would....

"Princess, what's-" He grasped her shoulders and started to pull her away from his crotch, but she wrenched free of his hands.

"No! No, Daddy, please, please!" And she went back to work. It took a long time, but the limp prick finally managed to stir, to stiffen and come alive to her touch, and her kiss. It came awake slowly, like a man waking and yawning, but it did respond. Karen felt a tentative sense of triumph at this sign. She stopped licking his prick for a moment, pushing it out of the way and licking his balls and his crotch. He was stiff, his whole body taut with nervousness or embarrassment, as though he and Karen had never done this thing before, as though he had been lewdly approached by a girl he had always thought to be nice.

But Karen didn't think about those things. Right now all she could think of was pleasing him, proving her love and probing for his. Her tongue found its way to the head of his cock again. She pushed back his foreskin and ran her tongue down the shaft of his prick, delighting in the thrill of pleasure that passed over his body at this touch. She moaned, gasped with joy at the realization of the happiness she was giving him.

She couldn't wait any longer. She closed her mouth over the head of his prick, pressing her lips against the shaft right behind the glans. She sucked gently, then with greater force, moving her tongue over the head of his cock as she did so. Daddy began to reward her efforts with little grunting sounds of pleasure, and his body began to respond to her, moving in little, tight jerks of response.

"Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!" He was grunting now in a steady cadence, his voice betraying his feelings as her tongue continued to lick, and her mouth to suck and her hands to do their nice things to the root of his cock and to his crotch and his balls. She could smell the sweat of his body, and the hair of his balls, and his abdomen was brushing ticklingly against her face.

"Mmmmm," she moaned, her lips still closed around the head of his prick. "Mmmmm." The sound was that of pure joy and satisfaction as she fed herself with love for him, and with the delight of giving him pleasure.

She could feel him getting close to coming, and she backed off, making it last for both of them. His cock was stiff and straight, jutting from his belly like a flagpole. She could feel it trembling in her fingers as she held off from stimulating it further. Daddy lay there, his body heaving with every breath, his eyes fixed upon the ceiling. When she felt that she had given him sufficient time to regain control of himself, Karen began to lick the head of his cock once more, lightly and softly, gently, as she had at the very beginning, picking up in pressure and tempo only slowly, working him back up, then slacking off once more.

There was a limit to how long she could keep up that sort of thing, and with instinct born of long practice she knew when she had approached that limit. She could feel the insistent trembling of his cock, and taste the fluid that told her he was about to go off in her mouth, and she tightened her lips and dragged them back and forth, back and forth, with increased friction, stroking the sensitive glans until she could feel his whole body pitch with the tremors of an approaching orgasm.

When it came it was awesome, wringing him out like a damp cloth, firing his cum into her mouth and throat with a stinging pressure. She tasted the gobs of cum and felt it clog her mouth, and she swallowed quickly, continuing to French him for all she was worth, keeping him at the peak of his pleasure for as long as she possibly could. Another shot of juice filled her mouth, and she felt some of it trickle out over her lips and down her chin as she worked feverishly, trying to save it all.

"Uh! Oh, God!" he cried, as his sensations reached their absolute peak. "Jesus, Jesus!" His powerful body arched up from the bed, straining with pleasure too great to contain.

When it was over he lay there, his body suddenly as flaccid as the cock Karen still held in her mouth. After a long while, she reluctantly pulled back, letting the heavy organ drop back to its resting place between his legs.

He made room for her on the edge of the bed, and she crawled up to lie beside him. Her body nestled comfortably against him. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she said softly. She wasn't looking at his face but she could feel the shift as he looked down at her.

"Sorry for what, Princess?"

"I was bad tonight," she said. "I went out of the auditorium looking for you."

"What's bad about that?"

"While I was out there I ran into Ron Baker." She could feel his body stiffen slightly at the mention of Ron's name, and she felt a small satisfaction that he cared enough to react. "He said he knew where you were, and I believed him. I guess I was just so upset because I couldn't find you that I would have believed anything. But anyway, I followed him, and he said he wanted to talk to me, and I got into his car. I'm sorry, Daddy. I made him give me the keys so he wouldn't be able to take me anywhere, and I really didn't think he was going to try to do anything but talk to me, but still I shouldn't have gotten into the car with him, should I?"

"I-No, Princess, I guess you shouldn't have."

"Once he had me in the car, he attacked me," she said, and felt his whole body stiffen. He shifted and looked down at her, and she returned his gaze with a wide-eyed stare.

"Attacked you!"

"Well, I guess he didn't think of it that way. I guess he thought he was just being a forceful lover, and trying to get things going between us again."

"What happened?"

"Nothing, really. He tried to-Well, to get into me, but I kicked him. I kicked him where it really hurts, and he vomited all over the floorboard of his car. Then I got out and ran back to the dance. It was breaking up by then, and I got a ride home. I'm sorry, Daddy. I know I was bad, and Ron could never have even tried anything if I hadn't been foolish enough to get in the car with him." She hesitated a moment. "If you want me to testify against him in court, I will," she said. "I'll tell everything he's done, and anything else you want me to tell. I'll make things up. I'll be very convincing, and they'll believe me: I promise."

"That won't be necessary, Karen." There was a hardness in Daddy's voice that Karen had seldom heard before.

"Don't you care, Daddy? About what he tried to do?"

"Of course I care, Princess. But don't you worry about it."

"But what about what I did? That was terrible, getting into the car with him. And there was a moment there when I wanted to let him have his way. My body wanted to, I mean. That was terrible, too."

"That's all right, Princess. I believe you. You thought he only wanted to talk to you. And as for wanting him to go ahead, that was purely physical. You couldn't help feeling that. And you didn't give in to him. That proves I can trust you."

"Daddy, maybe you ought to punish me. Just to be sure. I mean, if you want to take the belt to me again, it's all right. I'll understand. I'll stuff something in my mouth so I won't be able to make any noise, and you can whip me as much as you think you should."

"There won't be any more whippings, Karen. I shouldn't have done that the other day."

"Oh, you should have," she said. "I deserved it. I had it coming, and it did me good." She put her arms around him and hugged him tightly, snuggling her body against his and drawing comfort from the closeness. "You did it because you love me," she said with a feverish urgency. "You love me. Daddy. You love me...."