The Dollhouse

"I always love coming here with you," Hannah said, looking around at John's living room.

"Oh, why's that?" he asked, taping up a box of psychology books.

"It's special to me. You brought me here that day -- the day you rescued me."

John chuckled and pulled her into his arms.

"Sometimes I fantasize about living here with you. We raise Madison together, have babies of our own," she said.

John looked into her eyes.

"Are you sad that I can't give you that?" he asked.

"No," she said, her eyes smiling. "As much as I want you all to myself, I love watching you with the other girls, with Amelia. I would miss that."

John brushed a lock of hair away from her cheek.

"Well, I love being here with you," he said. "My most recent memories of this place are horrible. The divorce was awful. I felt so lonely here, so ruined. But bringing you here makes this place have potential again."

Hannah beamed.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"I was thinking of letting Becky live here when she graduates," he said. "If she wants. I haven't talked to her about it yet. I need to find a tenant."

"What kind of work is Becky going to do?" Hannah mused, laughing.

It was hard for either of them to imagine her rebelliousness and vigor fitting in anywhere.

"Good question."

They heard a car door outside, and John went to the window to see who it was.

"Fuck," he breathed.

"What is it?" Hannah asked, peering around him.

"It's Rachel," he said, bewildered.

"Your ex?"

There was a loud knock at the door.

"Open up, Asshole. I know you're here!" a shrill voice yelled.

John reluctantly went to the front door and opened it.

"The fuck do you want?" he asked. "Have you been staking out my place?"

"I want my mother's china that you promised me," she barked.

"You could have called," he said, stepping back and gesturing for her to come in.

Hannah stood in the living room, hands clasped in front of herself. She was nervous to meet this woman who had hurt the man she loved. She absentmindedly fingered her impurity ring as she watched the hallway.

The woman who stepped in was breathtaking. In heels, she was as tall as John. Her clothes were expensive -- obviously bought with John's money, Hannah thought. Her immaculate blonde hair fell about her in big curls, and her nails were freshly done. Hannah hated her on sight.

"They're here, already boxed up," John said, leading Rachel into the living room. "You never came for them so..."

"Who the fuck are you?" Rachel asked upon seeing Hannah.

Setting the box down on the end table, John froze.

Hannah stepped forward, timidly at first, but finding her courage as she moved.

"I'm Hannah," she said, lifting her right hand and offering it to Rachel with a smile. "John's girlfriend."

"Your what?" Rachel spat, turning to John. "She's a fucking teenager!"

Hannah's ring caught Rachel's eye, and she slapped Hannah's hand away.

"A fucking brunette teenager," Rachel said, looking Hannah up and down. "God, could you be any more predictable, John?"

"And you're a shrill blonde," Hannah said with a saccharine smile, crossing her arms. "Which explains John's penchant for brunettes."

"Okay," John said, stepping over to put his arm around Hannah. "Rachel, this is my girlfriend Hannah. Yes, she's eighteen, but...frankly it's none of your business."

"Barely legal," Rachel seethed. "Did he tell you how he likes little girls and writes disgusting stories about them? I guess you're just the youngest piece of pussy that the law will let him fuck."

"I love John's stories," Hannah retorted with a proud smile. "I read them out loud as I play with my wet, little, teenage cunt. Unlike you, I accept John for who he is."

Despite how proud and supported John felt about Hannah at the moment, he was beginning to seriously worry about Rachel's temper.

"I would've had you registered as a sex offender if I could have," Rachel turned on John.

"Well, you know what? No children were harmed in the writing of my stories, so it was kind of funny when the judge laughed at you and reminded you about, you know, freedom of speech."

"Your own clients, John!" Rachel hissed. "You wrote about your own fucking clients! Is nothing sacred to you? You're a therapist. You're supposed to help people!"

"John helps more people..." Hannah said, raising her voice and stepping toward Rachel, but John pulled her back.

"Take your mother's dishes and go," John calmly told Rachel as he held Hannah by the arms.

"Rot in hell! Both of you!" Rachel seethed as she grabbed the box off the end table, spun on her expensive heel and stormed out.

John pulled Hannah to him as they listened to Rachel's clomping down the hardwood hallway. She slammed the door behind her. They could her muttering as she walked to her car. It wasn't until he heard her drive away that John finally exhaled.

"I'm sorry I lost my temper," Hannah said, turning in John's arms.

He pulled her to him and kissed her hard.

"You were amazing," he told her. "I'm so proud of you."

"You're not mad that I made things worse?" Hannah asked.

"You defended me to that...bitch," John said. He stepped back, groping for the couch. Suddenly his legs felt weak.

Hannah helped him take a seat.

"John, what's wrong?" she asked, watching the color drain from his face.

"It still hurts," he said quietly. "She knows how to cut me. Her voice is like a knife."

"Baby," Hannah said, sitting next to him and taking his hand in hers. "You're trembling."

John closed his eyes, and he felt the pain of the last months of his marriage washing over him all over again.

"The stories were just an excuse," he whispered. "She'd stopped loving me a long time before that. But she milked the pedophile angle for all it's worth."

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," Hannah said, leaning against him.

John put his arm around her and suddenly felt vulnerable enough to let the pain out. Hannah felt his body heave as he sobbed.

"Oh, Baby," Hannah said, reaching up to his face. She felt his tears, and it broke her heart. "Oh, John, please don't cry."

Once the flood was opened, though, he couldn't stop. Hannah kissed his wet face, pressed her salty lips to his mouth, but he sobbed on. He couldn't even kiss her back. All the pain, all the anger, all the ways Rachel had cut him through the years had finally come to the surface. Hannah held him, soothed him, rocked him, but John just kept crying.

"Let me get you home, Daddy," she said, helping him to his feet.

John sobered up enough to get to the car, but he was dejected. He stared out the window, clenching his fists, occasionally letting the sobs wrack through his body. Hannah was worried. She called Amelia.

"Mommy, something's wrong," she said, hearing the panic in her own voice. She explained to Amelia what had transpired.

"Poor thing. He's probably never actually dealt with his divorce," Amelia mused.

"What do I do?" Hannah pleaded.

"Bring him home. Take him straight to the bedroom. We'll be here to help him. Hurry, Darling."

Hannah ended the call and sped toward the Dollhouse.

Preston was on the porch, waiting for them when they arrived. He helped Hannah get John inside, then he disappeared as Hannah took John into the bedroom.

"Mommy is here. She's going to make things better," Hannah tried to reassure him.

"Take off his clothes," Amelia said, once they were in the bedroom.

Hannah noticed that Amelia and the girls were all naked as Becky and Tansy started undressing John.

"Take yours off, too, Love," Amelia told Hannah.

"What are we doing?" Hannah asked.

"We're going to stabilize him," Amelia said. "He's in shock, much like after a rough BDSM session."

As Hannah stripped her clothes off, Preston walked in carrying a cup of cocoa. He paused, seeing her naked body, his eyes transfixed on her breasts, but he stopped so quickly that he sloshed hot chocolate onto his hand, burning himself.

"Shit!" he cursed, looking down at his hand but unsure of what to do. Hannah picked up her dress off the floor and used it to wipe the mess off his hand and the sides of the cup. She took the cup from him and handed him her dress.

"Would you wash this for me so the stains don't set in?" she asked.

"Sure," he said, blushing as he turned to go.

"And, Preston?"

"Yeah," he turned back.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

He leaned in and kissed her gently on the mouth, not wanting to slosh the cocoa onto her hand as well. When they broke the kiss, she said, "Thanks, I needed that." He could see the moisture in her eyes, but he didn't know what to say, so he nodded and turned and left.

As Hannah watched him go, she realized how much she was affected by not being able to help John. She turned around to see everyone looking at her.

"Take a sip, Dear," Amelia said. "I can see that his pain is hurting you, too."

Penelope came up and put her arm around Hannah.

"Watching a man burn himself because of my tits helped a little," Hannah joked weakly.

Penelope pushed the cup toward Hannah's lips. They all had heard the lectures from John and Amelia how it helped give them oxytocin which negated some of the emotional turmoil after an intense session of BDSM. Hannah sipped and then let Penelope kiss her, savoring the taste of the chocolate on Hannah's lips.

"Now give it to Daddy," Amelia instructed.

Hannah carefully carried the cocoa over to where John sat on the edge of the bed, walking on the balls of her feet to help minimize the slosh in the cup; it accentuated her calves and her ass as if she were in heels. She saw John's eyes move up her legs as she approached, and it helped recover her confidence a little.

He put his big, calloused hands around hers and brought the cup to his lips. He had circles under his eyes. He looked tired, and the lines etched in his brow spoke of pain. She felt bolstered at his touch. It felt good to have his hands on hers, moving her with his own will. She never realized how much she loved his strength until it seemed to be gone.

John gulped down the drink, letting it burn his mouth and throat, savoring the pain. It felt right to hurt, but there was no arousal in it. He became suddenly aware of how limp his cock felt, and he saw Hannah staring at it.

"You're not used to seeing me naked without an erection," he commented hoarsely.

She shook her head. "At least, not without it being covered in cum or saliva."

John let go of her hands, and Hannah backed away. Amelia sat down on the bed next to him, pressing her body to his side.

"Look inside yourself, Dear," she said. "You're a psychologist. Nobody in this house knows the mind better than you do. Tell me what you're feeling."

John stared at the carpet for a while. Amelia motioned with her eyes to the girls. She had told them before he arrived what she needed from them, and they saw that now was the time. They filled the space around him with their bodies, pressing their young, soft flesh against his. Becky and Tansy got behind him on the bed, rubbing his back. Madison sat on the side opposite Amelia, nuzzling her way under his arm and resting her head on his chest, making his hand cup her tiny budding breast. The other girls knelt at his feet, running their hands up and down his thighs, his chest, his calves. John took a deep breath and felt the oxytocin creep its way into his brain.

"I feel..." he muttered. "Like she was right."

"Who?" Amelia prompted.

"Rachel."

"Your ex? What was she right about, John?"

"That I'm just a fucking pedophile. That I...only want to hurt little girls."

"Oh, John," Amelia said, leaning her head on his shoulder and running her hand across his chest. "You're so fucking stupid," she said kindly. "You're the wisest man I've ever met, but you're a bleeding birk."

John slowly turned to look at her, and she lifted her head off his shoulder to look him in the eye. Amelia didn't often let her Britishisms slip. She'd been living in the States long enough to adopt American terms into her vocabulary. She never called the girls' pussies "fanny"; she never told them to take off their "pants" when referring to their panties. So to hear her break into base colloquialisms raised his attention.

"What? Am I a barmy plonker?" he asked, a hint of a smile slipping into his tired eyes.

"More like a gormless twit," she returned, smiling brightly at him.

"I feel so wrecked," he said, the smile sliding from his eyes. "How can she break me like this? I thought I was better. I thought I was..."

"Shhhh." Amelia put her finger over his lips to silence him. "Your problem is that you care too much, John. I've put that to great use in this house. Your soft heart, your ability to empathize was probably the one thing above all else that made me want to hire you. When you told Madison that you loved her right after putting your cock into her, I knew that you were the right man to take care of us all."

John closed his eyes shut tight and pushed the tears out.

"But that also means that you're vulnerable," Amelia continued. "Which is exactly what we need you to be. The fact that you question everything you do to them, for them -- that's what makes you such a good Daddy."

"I gave my daughter to her rapist!" John cried. The pain of it was etched so deeply in the lines of his face. His shoulders and chest shook with the force of his sobs.

Then he felt small, sweet lips pressing against his. Madison's mouth was on his. Her lips were so tender, so pliable. For a heartbeat, he was taken aback by her loving gesture. Then he saw her innocence contrasted with what he'd put her through, and he hated himself all over again.

"Daddy," Madison murmured against his mouth.

"Princess," he whimpered.

"You didn't hurt me; you helped me. You made me strong."

"I gave you to a pedophile rapist," he moaned.

"Because I wanted it. I needed it. Just like I need you."

Madison put all her weight on John as she kissed him, knocking him over onto his back on the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and felt her soft embrace, her loving mouth opening to him, devouring him. How does she know how to kiss me so perfectly? he wondered.

At his feet, Hannah pushed his knees apart. She started licking his scrotum, his perineum. He felt another mouth on him, licking the other side of his testicles. Then a tongue was on his cock, licking up his shaft. Amelia's hands were in his hair. He felt a stirring in his chest, in his loins as the loving ministrations of little girls' mouths started bathing him, healing him.

"Feel it, John," Amelia whispered in his ear. He felt her fingers plowing across his scalp. "Feel how much they love you."

His legs were pushed up, and he felt another tongue start lapping at his anus.

"They want you, John. They love you. They would give anything for you," Amelia continued.

He had both his arms wrapped around Madison's tiny waist, but he felt one of them pulled away by two little hands as Abby took it and brought it to her wet cunt.

"My pussy loves you, Daddy," he heard her little voice cry out as she shoved his middle two fingers into herself.

"Every one of these girls gave you their panties," Amelia crooned referring to the Impurity Ball. "They kissed your cock and offered their cunts to you. They love you, John. They worship you. They would do anything for you."

His shaft began to thicken and throb to life. He heard Julie moan around it, and he reached down and groped around until he found her head. He couldn't see her behind Madison sucking him, but he found Julie's head, her hair felt so soft under his hand. He pushed down, making her groan at the delight of feeling his need. Then he felt another mouth licking the base of his cock.

Madison, feeling a girl's head rubbing against her butt turned and looked over her shoulder and laughed.. She turned back to John with a smile.

"Julie and Penelope are sucking your cock. Becky and Hannah are licking your balls. Tansy is licking your ass. And you can see what Abby is doing to you," she giggled.

Her laughter hit John's heart like light dancing on water.

"They love you, John," Amelia purred. "And so do I."

John turned to her. He felt Julie and Penelope handling his cock, pushing him toward Madison's cunt. He loved the feel of their soft hands, and as they angled him, he could sense the heat radiating from his daughter's vulva. When he felt the warm, wet touch of her labia, he thrust, shoving his head into Madison's sweet hole. It made him gasp as he continued to look into Amelia's eyes.

"I love you, too, Millie," he whispered hoarsely.

His throat was dry, though his face was still wet with tears. Amelia reached out her deft fingers and wiped them away, pulling them to her lips.

"Your pain is our pain, John," she said. "When you hurt, we hurt. And you know how much we all love to hurt for you. But we can't bear to watch you suffer; that's our place, not yours."

"I'm usually so strong," he whispered as he pushed against Madison's tightness.

"You are. You're so strong, John. But your sensitivity makes you vulnerable. And it's okay. I'm not telling you to stop feeling. I love your vulnerability. I just..."

"You're helping me," he said.

She heard his response as not only his guess as to the conclusion of the sentence she didn't finish. She heard it as his affirmation that he was actually feeling better.

He turned to Madison who was looking down at him with a face full of worry and hope. Her tenderness, her devotion wrapped around his heart as he pushed himself into her pussy and felt her envelope him there as well.

"I love you, Daddy!" she gushed.

"I was so afraid that I was hurting you," he said.

"Only in the ways that I like," she said, leaning over to kiss his mouth. "Like how your cock is stretching me out so hard it feels like I'm going to rip apart. It's so good!"

John pulled back and then thrust into her again, making her gasp and wince.

"Yes! Like that!" she cried.

John smiled. It was a weak smile, but the sight of it brightened Amelia and Madison, nonetheless.

"Tell me what you're feeling, John," Amelia prompted.

"A tight, wet hole and lots of soft tongues and hands," he grunted.

"Not on the outside, ninny," Amelia said, smiling at him.

"You mean...in my brain?"

"Yes."

"You want me to assess myself?" he asked.

"Quite," she nodded.

John pushed up into Madison's cunt and held himself there as he tried to focus his thoughts for a moment.

"I'm not as scared," he said quietly. Amelia watched his eyes dart around as he looked within himself. She loved watching him think. It made her feel so enamored of him, knowing that he was so thoughtful. "That's the oxytocin," he nodded. "From all the touch."

"Good," Amelia said, laying a hand on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of Amelia's warmth, of Madison's tight moisture, of the various places on his body where kisses and touches and licks were prickling his skin.

"I have no fear at all," he said. "But...I'm still anxious, worried."

"Your vasopressin is low," Amelia replied. "Cum in Madison, and you'll feel the flood of not only more oxytocin but vasopressin as well."

"And dopamine," he said, smiling and turning to Amelia.

"Yes, you'll feel so much dopamine. It will wash your sadness away. But you don't have to wait for the orgasm for that. Take something you want, and you'll feel the rush of it already."

John leaned in to put his mouth on Amelia's. She wasn't expecting it. She had meant for him to act greedy with one of the girls, but... oh, his mouth was so warm; his lips were firm. She melted into him, opening her lips, pushing her tongue into him. The fact that she was what he wanted to take thrilled her. He was surrounded by children, girls, teenagers, but her mouth was the one he chose.

"I fucking love you, Amelia," he said when he pulled his mouth from hers.

She saw the fire in his eyes and felt the power in his words. Her John was back.

"Fuck her, John!" Amelia panted. "Fuck Madison; give her your cock, and give your mouth to me. I want you, Darling."

John held his daughter's thirteen-year-old hips and started to thrust up into her cunt, fucking her tight hole, making her whimper and gasp. Amelia leaned over him, kissing him now tenderly, now firmly, now greedily. She felt the bed moving as he fucked his daughter. She missed the sensation of his cock inside her and felt the slightest twinge of jealousy that it was Madison who got to be filled by him right now. But she also loved knowing that she was the one who had brought father and daughter together. Plus, his sexuality was almost as wonderful to watch as it was to receive.

"Fuck her hard," Amelia crooned. "Show her how much her daddy loves her, needs her. You're not a monster, John; you're a man. Fuck her like a man. Fuck her like a daddy."

John grunted as he felt his libido building. Madison's little body bounced above him. She was held sway by his hands on her hips, buffeted by his cock invading her over and over.

"Daah-aah-deeee!" Madison whimpered.

"I need you, Princess," he moaned. "I need to use you, cum in you."

"Yessss!" she cried.

John rolled away from Amelia, flipping Madison over onto her back. The other girls pulled back and watched, rubbing their pussies as John held his daughter down and hammered into her cunt. He looked down at her. She was writhing, squirming, squealing on the verge of orgasm. Her daddy was filling her up so completely, stretching her out so thoroughly, pounding her so fiercely.

"I... I'm cumming. Oh Daddy! DAD-DY!"

John felt her firm grip clench down on him.

"Yes! Cum for Daddy, Madison! Cum for me, you pretty little bitch!"

Her body exploded. Fireworks shot through her vision as the world slipped out of focus. Electricity crackled in her veins. Daddy hadn't fucked her this hard, with this much need in quite some time. It was intoxicating. Madison drifted away, floating until she heard a faint cry in the distance. She swam in her head toward the rush of sound that grew ever louder.

"FUUUUUUCCCK!" John cried out as his hips bucked into her. The surge of cum burned as it shot through him. Her tight hole had bruised him inside as much as his hard fucking had bruised her. Their coupling was so vulnerable, so fevered, so intense, so raw.

She opened her eyes to see Daddy crying out. She felt the gush gush gush that filled her womb, and then she slipped into blackness, her body going limp beneath him. John saw his child's eyes flutter. Then he felt the rigidity slip from her body. He had fucked her into oblivion, and it felt...amazing...watching the light go out of her big, blue eyes as they fluttered then closed.

John heard Amelia whimper, then she brushed a wet hand across Madison's cheek.

"You fucked her so good she passed out, John," Amelia commented. She slapped Madison hard on the cheek until the girl opened her eyes, gasping.

Madison looked up at John, felt his body on her, felt his cock throbbing, pulsing inside of her. She smiled a sleepy smile.

"Daddy," she crooned. "Is it morning? Are you still cumming?"

John pulled out of her before he finished deflating. As his head slipped past her sensitive opening, she gasped, and her eyes got big.

"Awww," she pouted. "But I want more."

"That's all for now, Princess," John panted, his dick dribbling out onto Madison's pussy. He felt Penelope's face squeezing in between him and Madison, and he lifted up to make room for her. She took his cock into her mouth and sucked him clean.

The other girls watched as Julie licked the cum from Madison's pussy. Then she spit the snowball into Becky's mouth, and the girls passed it around until it came back to Amelia. John thought she was going to pass it to him, but instead she gave it to Madison, who swallowed it up and then looked up at him with a sleepy and devilish grin.

"You look as tired as I feel, Baby," he said to his daughter.

"You need sleep, John," Amelia told him. "Keep Madison in the bed with you tonight. I'll sleep on the floor here in case you two need anything."

"No," John said, reaching out to touch her cheek. "I want you in bed with us, too. You helped me come back. I need you."

"You have me," she said, matter-of-factly. "But the one who helped you come back was Hannah." She turned to the tangle of girls at the foot of the bed, but Hannah was not there. "Where did she go?"

---

Preston was busying himself in the kitchen, cleaning up the leftovers from dinner that got abandoned when everyone rushed into rescue mode. He sometimes felt odd being the only Ken doll in a house full of Barbies. "I'm not a Ken doll," he chided his own thoughts outloud. "Why can't I be a G.I. Joe?"

"My dad had an Indiana Jones doll," Hannah said from the kitchen doorway.

Preston wheeled around, surprised to not be alone.

"It was one of the big twelve-inch dolls. He had the hat, the jacket, the whip, the revolver -- everything. It was so cool. I always wanted to play with it, but he would never let me touch it."

"That's awesome," Preston said, imagining an action figure that large. "And sad," he added, catching up with the last thing Hannah said.

"Speaking of sad," she said, padding toward him, naked and barefoot. He could see the emotion on her face. He reached out his arms and held her shoulders as she approached.

"What's wrong, Hannah? Why are you sad?"

His kindness and concern broke the dam that was holding back her emotions. Hannah collapsed into his arms, sobbing. Preston wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Despite the situation -- or maybe because of it, he felt himself growing in his pants as Hannah's naked breasts heaved against his chest. His hand filled the small of her back and pressed her hips to him. She felt his member twitch and thicken.

"Why are you hard?" she asked, not angry, just confused.

"B-because..." he stammered, "I like you, and...I feel..."

He didn't get to complete his sentence. He wasn't sure, himself, where it was going, so it was just as well that Hannah cut him off with a kiss. She'd heard enough to answer her question: He likes me. He feels.

When they broke their kiss, Preston held her out at arm's length.

"Tell me why you're hurting," he said.

Hannah's eyes brimmed with new tears that hovered on the brink, shining in the light for just a moment before they poured down her face.

"I couldn't help him," she said. "I didn't know what to do."

"Oh, Hannah," he gushed. "But you did. You knew exactly what to do. And you did help him."

"I don't know all that neurotransmitter stuff that Amelia does. And my pussy's not as tight as Madison's. And I'm not his daughter, and..."

"But you're his girlfriend," Preston said. "He gave you a gold ring."

He lifted her hand with his and intertwined his fingers with hers.

"You're his girlfriend. He needed you and you took care of him. Because he's your boyfriend."

"Does he have to be the only one?"

"The only what?" Preston asked, his heart fluttering in his chest.

"The only boyfriend?"

Preston could hear the blood rushing in his ears as he shook his head no.

"Will you fuck me, Preston?" she asked, full of hope, then immediately full of regret. "Is that crappy of me? I got rejected by him, but I'm asking you to... fill in."

"Take my pants off," he said, unbuttoning his shirt.

She reached down and undid his belt. By the time she got him unzipped, his chest was bare, and she got distracted by it. She let go of his trousers to run her fingers up his pects. He smiled and shirked his pants off.

Hannah was still mesmerized by his chest when she felt him lift her up and set her on the table. She briefly wondered how many times this table had been used for fucking, but then she stopped caring when Preston's mouth caught hers. She ran her fingers through his hair, and she lifted her legs, spreading them wide. She reached down between them and found his cock: hot, rigid, in his hand. She guided it to her wet hole.

As he shoved into her, she closed her eyes. The day flashed before her: the joy of being in John's house, the fear that Rachel instilled, the fight or flight response that she channeled into fight when she got in Rachel's face, the care that flooded over her as she watched John struggle, then panic in the car, the eroticism of joining with the other girls in worshiping John's body as he returned to himself. But within all that, there was Preston, bringing cocoa and spilling it on himself when he saw her bare tits.

"Ohhhhhh," she moaned as she felt him grope her chest.

"I love your tits, Hannah," he growled. She pushed his head down until he found her nipple with his mouth.

"They're here anytime you want them," she purred.

With his mouth on her nipple, she felt his thrusts increased in intensity. The suction on her breast traveled right down to her cunt to join the fire that was spreading through her.

"God!" she cried, nearing her climax.

"Yes!" he rejoined.

"Cum in me," she begged.

"Yes!" he answered.

He didn't take long, and the spurt inside of her felt like redemption. She had worried that she was worthless, unable to help a man find happiness. But Preston proved to her with his cock that she was worthy. She made a man cum. She was still a good girl, full of worth. She wrapped her legs around him and thrust back, exploding with him.

His head in the nook of her neck, both of them panting, she smiled, letting the frustration, the worry wash away.

"Hey," Penelope's voice broke the calm. "Mommy wants you to come sleep with John. She says she's really proud of you. Daddy said he wants to feel your warmth or some romantic crap like that."

"I..." Hannah started, but she felt Preston look up at his sister. Although he fucked any of the girls that were interested, it was an unspoken truth that he and Penelope loved each other first and foremost. Hannah suddenly felt jealous and...maybe a little spiteful. "I want to sleep in Preston's bed tonight," she replied.

Preston looked down at her.

"It's okay. He needs you," he said.

What if I need you? she wanted to scream.

"You were worried that you couldn't reach him, but you were wrong," he said. "Now you know. Go. Be with him."

She touched Preston's cheek before stretching her neck up to kiss him.

He climbed off of her and helped her to her feet. As Hannah and Penelope walked back to the bedroom, Penelope took her hand.

"He loves you, you know?" she said.

"Who?" Hannah asked, turning to look back at Preston just as the kitchen door swung closed behind her.

"It doesn't matter which name I say; it's still true," Penelope replied.

Hannah smiled.

"You love him too," Penelope said.

"I don't want to make you jealous," Hannah said as they approached the bedroom.

Penelope pulled Hannah to her. The look in Penelope's eyes was serious, and it made Hannah nervous. Then Penelope surprised her by leaning in for a kiss.

"I love them both, too," she told Hannah. "So don't you be jealous of me either."

"Are you going to sleep with your brother tonight?"

Penelope smiled. "I'm going to go lick your pussy juice off his dick first, but yeah." Then she turned with a smile and went back to the kitchen

Hannah gingerly turned the bedroom doorknob. She peeked her head in as she slowly opened the door. John was on the bed with Madison next to him on the side opposite the door. He saw Hannah and smiled as he motioned for her to come in.

"Is she asleep?" Hannah asked in a whisper.

"Passed out," John replied quietly.

"Jeez, Daddy. What did you do to her?" Hannah chuckled as she settled in to sit next to John on the bed.

"Where did you go, Honey?" he asked. "I was worried when you disappeared."

"I..." she bit her lip as she thought about how to answer him.

John scooted up to lean his back against the headboard. He lifted her chin to look at him.

"Tell me, Hannah," he insisted softly.

Her eyes glowed in the soft lamplight as she looked into his eyes. Her chin began to tremble.

"I felt so useless," she said, and her tears sprang forth as she squinted her eyes shut against them.

John pulled her into his arms, and she felt his mouth on hers, greedily pressing his firmness against her softness. She relaxed as she felt him lay her down on the bed and continue to kiss her. His hands explored her chest. Finding her nipple between his fingers, he tugged at it.

"You saved me, Hannah," he said. "You defended me. You loved me. And you saved me."

His hand travelled down her body, tracing hot lines with his fingers as he made his way toward the part he craved. She caught his hand and froze as his fingers almost reached her cunt.

"What's wrong, Hannah?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern. "It's okay if you don't want..."

"No," she interrupted. "It's not that. I..." she felt so shy under him as she looked to see worry on his face. "I fucked Preston. And it made me feel better. I didn't want you to find his cum down there."

"Hannah," he sighed with a smile. "I'm glad you found comfort with him."

"You're not mad?"

"No," John assured her, bringing his hand up from her belly to cradle her face.

"Do you...still want me?"

"Completely," he breathed.

"And you're not grossed out that his cum is... you know... in me?"

John smiled.

"I just didn't...I mean you deserve better than sloppy seconds."

John laughed. "Then I'll just use the other hole."

Hannah gasped. She had wanted to try anal with John. Becky had talked about it so much. But she had never felt quite brave enough to ask for it.

"It's probably going to hurt you," he said in a throaty whisper.

"I know," she said, her eyes half lidded.

John licked his finger and then reached his hand up between her thighs. She parted her legs and pulled them up. His finger found her little hole.

"I'm sure, Daddy," she said when she saw him hesitate.

John pushed his finger into her, and she winced at the shock of it at first. He left his finger there as he watched her face.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, exhaling. "It kind of burns, but...in a good way."

John relaxed a little.

"But I don't think I'm ready for a hard dry fuck like you give Becky," she said. "Can we use lube?"

"I have a better idea," John said, pulling his finger out, making her wince again. He lifted her legs up and got in position behind her. "We'll use Preston's cum."

Hannah felt John's cock push into her pussy.

"But..." she started, trying to think of the reasons she felt earlier about why she didn't want John to have sloppy seconds, but with his cock in her, all she could do was moan. Then just as suddenly, he pulled out, and she felt him pressing at her anus, this time with his wet cock.

"It means so much to me that you want this, Hannah," he said, leaning over her as he pushed in.

"I do, Daddy," she said, wincing as his large cock -- so much larger than his finger -- split her open.

Despite the slippery sensation of Preston's cum coating him, the mere width of John's cock stretching her out made her burn.

"Oh!" she cried as he pulled back and thrust into her again. It hurt so much. "Daddy," she whimpered.

"It feels so good, Hannah," he moaned.

"It does?" she murmured, trembling at the pain.

"Yes, oh god yes," he groaned as he continued to fuck her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"It hurts," she winced. "So much."

"Good," John grunted, pushing harder into her.

"Oh, god, Daddy!" she cried, tears filling her eyes.

"Fuck, Hannah, yes!" he moaned.

The pain was so intense. Part of her wanted it to end, but looking up at John through her tears, she saw the bliss on his face. She remembered when John took Abby, how much he loved her tears and praised her for it. She opened her eyes.

"I love that you're hurting for me," his voice grumbled.

That was what she wanted. She felt the amazing sensation of knowing that her pain was a gift to him.

"Do it harder," she whispered.

Knowing that the searing pain in her bowels meant that his cock was being caressed and pleasured made her feel incredible. It was such an intimate sensation to look up at him and hurt for him. She felt him slam into her, shaking her body with the force of this thrusts. She thought about touching her pussy as the arousal from her pain began to grow, but she just held her legs open for him, not wanting to distract herself from focusing on his pleasure.

The bed rocked under them as John slammed into her again and again, hurting her, fucking her until his breath started catching. She cried openly, sobbing at the pain but never once moving to do anything but open herself up to him.

"Hannah!" he cried. "God, Hannah! YES!"

Sensing that he was close, she actually smiled. She wanted him to cum. She yearned to make him cum. The only thing that mattered to her in the whole world through the fog of her glorious pain was that John cum.

"UUUuunnnnngghghhhh!" he groaned, and she felt the familiar sensation of his cock throbbing, expanding to shoot his semen into her. The hot blast of his cum filled her inside, and she felt so wonderful. It burned and seared her.

John collapsed onto the bed between her and Madison. He was spent. She was ruined. Hannah continued to cry as John snuggled against her and wrapped his arms around her.

"You're so pretty when you cry," he whispered, brushing her hair away from her wet cheek. She turned to him, pain on her face as she sobbed. "I'm going to start making you cry a lot more. I love your tears."

Hannah felt both joy and fear grip her heart. All she wanted was to be what John needed. She knew it was going to be hard, but to feel how he came in her, how he found bliss through her pain -- she realized it was the most perfect thing she could ever give him. How different the ways men had filled her tonight. Preston was all sweet and giving. John was rough and taking.

"Are you mad at me for fucking Preston?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "I want you to keep fucking him. You're my girlfriend, but that doesn't mean you can't be his girlfriend too. You deserve the sweet nature of being with a boy who cares about you."

Hannah smiled.

"But I'm not going to be sweet with you anymore," John said.

Hannah whimpered and bit her lip. "Okay," she whispered.

"You can cum with Preston. But I don't want you to cum with me anymore."

She moaned in agony and delight.

"I want to hurt you and abuse you."

"Why?" she cried, fresh tears rushing down her cheeks.

"Because it feels so good to me," he said, reaching over and taking her nipple between his finger and thumb. He slowly started to pinch and twist it.

"Will you beat me?" she asked, wincing.

"Yes. Lots," he replied.

She sobbed and nodded.

"I'm going to ruin you," he said.

"Okay."

"Because you need it."

"Yeah," she sighed, smiling. "I think it's what I deserve."

"For being such a dumb bitch?" he asked.

His words seared her soul, burning down from her heart to her pussy. The thought of being so worthless felt...right.

"Say it," he prompted.

"I'm just a dumb, worthless fucking bitch," she sighed. As soon as she said it she knew that it was true. It was the only thing that was true in her life.

"Did you cum while I fucked you?" he asked, rubbing his hand up and down her thigh.

"No, Daddy," she replied.

His fingers pushed up into her cunt.

"But you got wet?"

She was dipping. She could feel the grool oozing down from her cunt hole to her asshole. She nodded.

"It looks like your pussy knows what you were made for," he said. "It knows you were made to be hurt and fucked for a man's pleasure. You're so stupid for getting wet. I'm going to have to spank your pussy for being so dumb."

Hannah gasped and cried out as John pushed her thighs apart. At her cry, he put a hand over her mouth.

"Shhhhhh," he said. "Don't wake up my little Madison. Stay quiet while I beat your cunt. Understand?"

She felt his eyes boring into her as his hand pushed against her mouth. She nodded. She was so afraid. She'd never done these things before. It was going to hurt so much, but...he was right. She deserved it.

When his hand came down on her cunt, crushing her labia and stinging her clitoris, she instinctively closed her legs around his hand. He pushed them open again.

"Hold your legs. If you do that again, I'm going to use a belt on your pussy."

Hannah sobbed as she grabbed ahold of her thighs and spread herself open so vulnerably in front of him. The look in his eyes was so wild, so manly. It terrified her, and that was what was turning her on the most.

As John brought his hand down on her pussy over and over, she heard Madison snoring softly, and from the foot of the bed, she heard Amelia whimper as her Mommy fingered herself savoring the destruction of Hannah's stupid pussy. It hurt so bad, but the pain, the humiliation was ... wonderful. She was giving John exactly what he needed.

She mattered.