Mightier than the Sword
by Piper
mc; Mf; Mdom; inc (nosex); mast
This is a prequel of sorts to Gasman’s story, Trailer Park Tango. It casts Daisy in a new light but it may still be worth reading the original story BEFORE this one. There are a few points that don’t really line up between the stories, the big one being that the pen and notepad held by the man (in my story) end up inexplicably in the possession of Daisy’s grandmother (in the original story). Still, I hope you enjoy it.
Daisy Hatfield stood waiting patiently for the Mountain Vista Middle School bus. She lived at the very edge of the school district so the bus had to make a special stop for her. To compensate for this extra expense somewhat, the stop was about a mile away from her house. The reasoning, as it had been explained to Daisy’s family, was that this small savings in gas would eventually add up. Daisy didn’t mind, she actually enjoyed the time to herself. Between the walk out and the varied wait time once she had reached the bus stop, Daisy usually had half an hour to be alone with her thoughts.
Several yards behind Daisy, a young man crouched in the bushes. This was a rather clichéd position for a stalker, but it was the only suitable means to spy on the bus stop without being readily noticed. The man watched Daisy with a practiced eye. Today the thirteen-year-old redhead was wearing a thin green and white striped shirt that might have showed off her developing breasts nicely if it weren’t for the jean jacket she wore over it. Her skirt, likewise, was disappointingly chaste, reaching down almost to her knees.
Today was the day that the man would make his corrections to Daisy. His glittering blue pen and matching notepad, never far from his side, were clutched tightly in his hands in anticipation of the improvements that he would make. Anything written in the iridescent notepad, provided it was written with the pen, would become the absolute truth for whoever it was written about. The pen couldn’t control singular actions, rather it affected the overarching thoughts and behaviors of its target. The only flaw in the pen’s magic is that the name of the victim is required to provide a focus. Weeks of waiting at this forlorn middle school bus stop had paid off yesterday when Daisy had been welcomed onto the bus, by name, by one of her friends. As quietly as he could, the man straightened his notepad and wrote:
(1) Daisy dresses like a slut.
Daisy ran her fingers through her long red hair and shivered. There was a small tingling at the back of her head, but it was an itch she couldn’t scratch. She casually pulled off her jean jacket and tossed it in the direction of some bushes. What had she been thinking of when she put that on this morning? Layering clothing would just make it harder for people to see how pretty she was. Daisy looked down at herself and let out a small gasp in shock. She didn’t look pretty; she looked ugly! Her clothes were so big… they covered way too much of her skin. What was she, a nun?
Daisy pulled up her shirt, so that her belly button was plainly visible, and tied the loose fabric into a knot to keep it from falling down. She was proud of her flat stomach; she wanted people to know that she had a good-looking body. Of course, now that Daisy was considering her outfit critically, she realized that her skirt was simply too long. It looked odd having a skirt that was now longer than her cropped shirt. Daisy hooked her thumbs inside the elastic waistband of her skirt. Then she stopped and looked around guiltily. Just because her skirt needed some changes, that didn’t mean she wanted people to watch her make them. Luckily, this bus stop was fairly secluded and Daisy knew most people would be at work right now. Still, she was blushing as she pulled her skirt down around her ankles and stepped out of it. As she knelt by the offending fabric, wearing only her shirt and bright-blue panties, Daisy rummaged in her backpack for a pair of scissors. Finding them, she turned her attention back to her skirt. It was hard to tell how short to make it now that she wasn’t wearing it, but Daisy decided to err on the side of caution and make it shorter than her guess. After all, she wouldn’t want to have to pull off the skirt a second time. That would be embarrassing.
With a series of quick snips, Daisy cut a strip off the bottom of her skirt. She thought it was funny that the excess fabric ended up being longer than what was left of her skirt. Quickly now, for the bus would probably come soon, Daisy stowed her scissors and put on her improved skirt. As she ran her hands over it she giggled, realizing that she had accidentally cut the fabric a little too short. Her blue panties might be just barely visible. That probably wouldn’t be good. Actually, Daisy decided, it would probably be less noticeable to get rid of the panties entirely. Too much clothing complicated things and, also, blue panties would stand out more than the pale skin of her butt occasionally flashing into view. She didn’t want to get into any trouble. So, Daisy’s panties followed her jacket towards the bushes. Finally comfortable and happy with her appearance, Daisy resumed her wait for the bus.
The man had watched it all. He ached to collect Daisy’s panties from where they lay, tantalizingly close, but he couldn’t risk it. Daisy might dress like a slut now but in every other respect she was still a normal middle school girl. Seeing a strange man storm out of the bushes to steal her panties would not go over well. Sighing, knowing that those lovely panties were cooling even as his erection grew warmer, the man made his second enhancement to Daisy.
(2) Daisy is as dumb as a hillbilly.
Daisy crinkled her nose in irritation. That itch in her mind was back. She shook her head but it wouldn’t go away, like some half-remembered tune. There was something about it that felt wrong, it wasn’t natural. And something else was happening now. This time it was like there was a fog in her head. Her thoughts were coming more slowly. The feeling that her memory and thoughts were getting weaker was very disturbing.
“Disturbing?” Daisy suddenly laughed out loud, “where’d ah learn a fancy word like that? Don’t need that when ah can jus’ say weird.”
Daisy paused for thought, which took much longer than it would have a few minutes ago. “‘Course it ain’t weird, it’s jus’ me bein’ me. Better not ta have ta worry ‘bout big words when the littler ones work fine.”
Realizing belatedly that she was speaking her thoughts, Daisy laughed again. She stood placidly waiting until the bus finally arrived several minutes later. When she stepped onto the bus she was greeted by a brief moment of silence, followed by a storm of questions that she answered enthusiastically, if simply.
Watching the bus turn a corner, the man slowly stood and stretched, wincing as feeling returned to his legs. Nonchalantly, he walked over and picked up Daisy’s discarded panties from the grass. He rubbed the cotton fabric between his fingers before stuffing it into his back pocket.
Daisy was sure to be punished for violating the middle school’s dress code. When she was called into the principal’s office about the violation, he would think she was acting dumb to make fun of him. Two infractions like that in one day meant that she would be sent home on an early bus, midway through the school day, and her parents would be called. Both of Daisy’s parents worked until around 6:00 during the week, which meant that the latchkey girl would be home alone for hours. Smiling at the thought, the man got into his car, which he had parked around the corner, and drove to a nearby coffee shop to pass the hours until the early bus dropped Daisy off.
Daisy sat in the back of the early bus, its only passenger, with tears of anger threatening to fall at any time.
“Ah am who ah am,” Daisy mumbled to herself miserably.
It had been weird having all the boys staring at her in the hallway before homeroom and even her friends didn’t understand why she was dressed like she was. But Daisy knew that this was how she was supposed to dress. So she didn’t understand why her homeroom teacher made her go to the principal’s office as soon as she had walked in the classroom. And then he had thought she was making fun of him. Like she was being dumb or something.
“Hey,” Daisy called up to the bus driver, pulling herself back to the present. “Can ya drop me off at mah house today?”
The bus driver, an overweight woman in her late forties, was in no mood to drive an extra mile both ways when she already had to go so far out of her normal route. “Sorry, Princess, you’ll have to walk.”
Daisy slumped back in her seat and said quietly, “Least ah would be a better princess than you.”
The man was waiting in his car, across the street from Daisy’s bus stop. As expected, the early bus had come to drop Daisy off. Daisy turned to make a rude gesture as the bus pulled away. She glared at the hulking vehicle until it had disappeared. As she began the mile-long trek to her home, the wind teased the edges of her skirt up, flashing her nakedness for anyone who cared to look. The man did care to look. And do much more besides.
(3) Daisy is always horny and plays with herself whenever she can.
(4) Daisy fucks anyone who asks her to.
“Aw gawd, it’s back.” Daisy stopped walking. What was it about this place that made her head itch so much?
Then, Daisy felt a real tingling sensation from her pussy. In recent months, as she had become aware of herself, she had masturbated while thinking about boys from her school but this was different. She wasn’t thinking about any boy in particular, she just felt a sudden urge to masturbate.
Daisy reached under her skirt and began to rub her slit. As she walked, the friction of her thighs heightened the feeling and her hand grew more urgent. Her pussy quickly became slick as she climbed from one plateau of pleasure to the next. Finally a series of quick passes on her clit brought her to an orgasm. Daisy mewed, trying not to make a lot of noise as she sank to the ground in ecstasy.
As the last vestiges of her orgasm faded, Daisy realized that she was still horny. Absently, she brought her hand up to her nose, inhaling the smell of her own arousal. Thoughts of walking home were quickly forgotten as she sat on the outskirts of this suburban neighborhood, determined to sate her lust. She rationalized her behavior by telling herself that it was still the middle of the day and no one would be watching.
This time, using a finger slick with her juices, Daisy began to finger fuck herself. It wasn’t as stimulating, but this way Daisy could pretend that she was having sex with a guy. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, focusing only on her pussy. Cautiously, she forced a second finger into herself, savoring the sensation. Daisy pushed deeper and winced as she pressed against her hymen. She knew about this from health class. Steeling herself for what she was about to do, Daisy began massaging her clit with her free hand. Settling into a pattern of thrusting and playing with her clit, Daisy brought herself to the edge of another orgasm as quickly as she could. As the pleasure finally spiked, Daisy punctured her hymen, crying out at the pain even as her orgasm reached a crescendo.
Daisy lay trembling on the ground for a few minutes. She was already starting to feel horny again but her two orgasms had calmed her somewhat. She realized that she should go home if she wanted to continue playing with herself since, after all, anyone could drive by and see her like this. Hissing a little at the lingering pain, Daisy wiped a smear of blood and juices on the grass and then stood on unsteady legs. Slowly, she continued walking back to her house.
The man hadn’t moved. Daisy had gotten pretty far before collapsing in her first orgasm, but she was still close enough that he could see what she was doing. When she finally picked herself up and continued her walk home, the man started his car and drove up beside her. When Daisy noticed him, her hand suddenly dropped to her side. The man smiled; she had already started masturbating again.
As the man put his car into park, Daisy stopped and turned with her hands on her hips. She said loudly, “What do ya want?”
The man rolled down his window and smiled at the girl. “Do you need a ride?”
Daisy brightened. Most girls would be suspicious of a strange man offering rides, but Daisy was no longer as smart as most girls. Flashing him a winning smile, she opened the passenger door. “That’d be great. Mah house is jus’ down the road.”
The man resumed driving while noting, from the corner of his eye, that Daisy was rubbing her thighs. Her legs were squeezed tightly together and she stroked her thighs roughly with her hands. Her not-so-subtle attempts to hide her arousal brought a smile to his face. Did she really think he couldn’t smell it?
“Miss,” he began, feigning ignorance of her name, “you look very antsy. Do you want to fuck?”
Knowing the answer in advance is helpful when posing that question to a thirteen-year-old.
Daisy looked over at him, thrilled. “Ya! Ah’ve been so horny. We can do it at mah house! Oh, an’ mah name’s Daisy.”
“Sounds good, Daisy.” The man turned to wink at her. “Just make sure to warm yourself up.”
Daisy giggled shyly. She pulled back her skirt, which had barely managed to cover her pussy when she sat down. As Daisy began to play with herself, the man stole surreptitious glances whenever he could take his eyes off of the road. Daisy had a very light dusting of red hair around her pussy, which was still pretty slick with the juices of her orgasms. When they finally reached Daisy’s house, the man pulled into the driveway.
Forgetting her arousal for a minute, Daisy looked over at the man. “How’d ya know this was mah house?”
Because I have been following you for weeks. “It was just a lucky guess.”
Daisy’s muddled mind tried and failed to come up with an alternative explanation. So, she just smiled at him and climbed out of the car. “Awright. Let’s go quick.”
Daisy ran up to the front door, pulled a key from her backpack, and opened it. The man followed her inside more slowly and closed the door.
“C’mon,” Daisy whined. As soon as she had gotten inside, she had pulled off her shirt and shimmied out of her skirt. The naked redhead reached for the man’s belt, shivering with lust, but the man pulled back.
“Let’s do it in your room.” It was a bit of a tradition, really. There was something perversely satisfying about having a girl’s first time being surrounded by all the things she had formally cared about.
“’Kay” Daisy began all but dragging him up the stairs in her haste. They went into her room which, rather predictably, had walls covered with posters of boy bands and pictures of her friends. Daisy jumped on top of her pink bedspread and started rubbing herself again.
Not taking his eyes off of her, the man undressed. Then he climbed onto the bed and reached out to knead her breasts. Daisy whimpered at the sensation and fingered herself harder. The man traced the curves of her body down to her waist. Trembling, Daisy reached up and took the man’s cock in her hands. The half-erect organ began to swell as she played with it, covering it with the juices that had coated her hands. The man pushed up Daisy’s legs, spreading them wider. He knelt and positioned his cock at her pussy. Slowly, he pushed himself inside of her. For each of them, the pleasure bordered on pain; Daisy’s pussy was still very tight. Daisy let out an inarticulate groan at the sensation of having a cock inside of her.
The man eased himself back out before he had gone halfway to the hilt. Grunting with pleasure, he pushed back inside the little girl. Daisy let out a startled squeak as he forced himself all the way in. Without pausing, the man pulled almost completely out again, a movement made easier by Daisy’s juices. The man began a slow rhythm of thrusting, both to prolong the pleasure and because Daisy was so tight. It took a while for them both to climb to the heights of pleasure. Finally, with one last thrust, the man came inside of Daisy. She gasped and bit her tongue, feeling the hot liquid filling her.
The man rolled over to the side and lay there panting next to Daisy. She was still in the haze of her orgasm and barely acknowledged that he was there. After some time, the man began stroking himself. He slowly coaxed his cock into another hard erection. Daisy was watching through half-lidded eyes, one hand absently rubbing her pussy.
The man kissed her on the forehead and asked, “Ready to go again?”
Mr. Hatfield had gotten a call from Daisy’s school to inform him that Daisy had been sent home early for inappropriate conduct. Although he didn’t let on with the principal, Mr. Hatfield was livid. Daisy was a straight-A student and never missed a day of school, even when she was sick. Despite his wrath, Mr. Hatfield wasn’t in a position to leave work early so he had to wait, growing angrier by the minute. The entire drive home he never fell below the speed limit, guaranteeing that he would get home at least ten minutes before his wife.
When he pulled into the driveway, all thoughts of punishment fled. There was already a car in the driveway. Filled with a sudden dread, Mr. Hatfield threw open his car door, barely taking the time to put it in park, and ran towards the house. He rushed inside, a dozen scenarios going through his mind, each worse than the last. When he found his daughter in the kitchen, he froze in shock.
Standing at the counter, oblivious to the panic on her dad’s face, Daisy was eating a bagel. She was wearing an old white tank top, two sizes too small, that hugged every curve she had. It was riding up on her stomach, exposing a tantalizing strip of skin. The only other article of clothing she had on was a pair of what used to be her jeans, now cut so short that the pockets hung out below the bottom.
Seeing him gaping, Daisy grinned. “Yer gunna catch flies if ya don’ close yer mouth, Daddy.”
Mr. Hatfield briefly wondered if he was hallucinating. There was no way his smart, proper little girl would be talking and dressing like this. He shook his head, recalling why he had rushed in. One problem at a time.
“Daisy,” Mr. Hatfield took his daughter by the shoulders, “whose car is outside?”
“That would be mine.” A man walked into the kitchen, scribbling something onto a notepad he was carrying.
Rubbing the back of his head at a sudden itch, Mr. Hatfield glared at the intruder. There shouldn’t be a strange man in his house. Or should there be? It was getting harder to think, like he had gone several days without sleep. The more he tried to focus, the more he felt his thoughts slipping away. Mustering his anger, despite the pressure in his head, Mr. Hatfield asked, “An’ what the hell ‘re ya doin’ here?”
Daisy opened her mouth as if to speak, but the stranger beat her to it. Never taking his eyes off of the pad he was writing on, he said, “I’m from the utility company. Just taking a few notes.”
“Now listen,” Mr. Hatfield began, making a face as the strange itch returned, “this here’s my property. Ya can’t jus’ come on in unless ya have permission.”
“Of course, my apologies,” the man said politely, closing his notepad and looking up for the first time. “I can come back at another time if that is convenient.”
Mr. Hatfield didn’t respond. He hadn’t even heard the suggestion. He had just noticed how hot his daughter looked in her slutty clothes. Like any decent father he told his daughter that she was beautiful, but he had never before been attracted to her. Now he couldn’t take his eyes off of her chest, imagining what it would look like if the thin layer of fabric was gone. Suddenly, he noticed that she smelled distinctly of sex and, rather than getting angry, he thought about what it would be like to have sex with his daughter.
“Hey, Daisy,” Mr. Hatfield began hesitantly, “do ya wanna fuck?”
Daisy’s eyes lit up. She pulled her dad into a hug, simultaneously rubbing her crotch against his leg. “Ya, Daddy. Can we do it in yer room?”
That reminded Mr. Hatfield about his wife, who could be home any minute. Seeing the worried look crossing Mr. Hatfield’s face, the stranger guessed its cause.
“Don’t worry,” the stranger said, tapping his pen meaningfully against his notepad, “I’ll stay around to make sure your wife understands what’s going on.”