Watch With Father Pt 1 -� Fear of Change
I
slip into her room and, by the soft glow of the nightlight, make out
her huddled form under the bedclothes. She doesn�t move,
doesn�t make a sound, though I know she hears me. �But,
like the rabbit in headlamps, she is frozen in place, terrified of
what�s to come but powerless to get out of the way.
Facing
the foot of the bed, mounted above the large mirror, is the big, flat
tv bolted to the wall. It has a built in dvd player and it swallows my
freshly burned disc with what sounds like a hum of contentment. Even
machinery can sound happy when it�s doing what it was meant to
do. The remote is on her bedside table and I pick it up as I sit on the
edge of the bed and rest my hand on her curled form. She�s warm
and I feel a slight tremor in her flesh. I wonder if she�s crying
again. I hope so.
�Hey
angel. Emma. Wake up for daddy,� I whisper and gently shake her.
�There�s something on TV I want you to see, ok? Come
on� Wake up sleepyhead.� I shake her a little more
vigourously and she turns over, wide eyed and wide awake, sitting up
against the headboard. Her eyes are puffy and red from the tears, black
smudges under them from lack of sleep. Emma looks at me with as much
resignation as fear and even that�s becoming too much effort for
her now.
I
pat the centre of the bed to show where I want her. She knows that
place, knows I can put her there if I want to and where once there was
a defiant shake of the head, now she takes a shuddering breath, gives a
slight whimper and pads on all fours to where she belongs.
�Good
girl for daddy,� I say and kneel behind her. She gives another
whimper as I lift the hem of her silky nightie up to show her tight,
pert little rump. The whimper turns to a kind of choked sob as Emma
feels my hand between her legs, pushing them open, cupping the smooth
swell of her sex. I stroke a finger between her little lips and feel
heat but no real moisture. Well, one day perhaps, but for now there are
ways and means and I lean over, open the cabinet drawer and take out
the partly squeezed tube of KY.
I
coat my already aching erection in the cold slickness and then
generously apply it to Emma�s ass and cunt. She�s crying by
the time I screw the cap back on and put it on the cabinet.
�Now,�
I say, picking up the remote, �I�ve got something to show
you. Something very, very special. I haven�t even watched it all
myself because I wanted to share it with you.�
I
press the button and the tv flicks on with a staticy click. A few
seconds later static shows and I press another button to find the AV
channel. The dvd menu comes up and there�s one file on the disc.
I press play and news.avi begins to play. On the screen, a woman in a nice suit sat behind a big desk starts to talk.
At
a news conference today, Southwest regional police made a further
appeal for any witnesses who may have information in the disappearance
of 7 year old Emma Austen. Emma has been missing for three days after
becoming separated from her parents at a local antique fair. Initial
thoughts that she had wandered off quickly faded and police are now
certain that she has been abducted. An extensive search was conducted,
with local volunteers and police with sniffer dogs combing local woods
and parks for any sign�
Behind
her there�s a picture of Emma in her school uniform, which is
nowhere near as sexy as the one I got her. She looks happy, carefree, a
smile on her face. I�m sure that I�ll get to see that smile
myself, once she adjusts. It�s a lot for her to take in and I
like to think that things like this will make her understand
there�s no going back for her.
I
push the tip of my cock at the tight, puckered entrance to her ass and
Emma gives a mewl of discomfort, though she�s well used to this
by now. Fingers digging into her hips, I hold her in place, offering a
deep, heartfelt sigh of pleasure as I push deep into her. She grips me
like a fist and it�s hard to believe that once upon a time she
was too tight to penetrate. It just hurt too much. But nowadays
she�s still tight but, with plenty of lubricant, her little anus
soon gives and before long I�m easing in and out of her.
I
watch in the mirror and I see the look of discomfort on her face, that
familiar �I don�t understand why this is happening�
look. I can see it changing a little more every time, becoming more
resigned and accepting of her new place and purpose. I find that
thrilling. It�s only right she should see sense.
�That
good, babygirl?� I whisper as I move in and out of her little
body. �Do you like when daddy fucks you?�
Again
I see her in the mirror. She closes her eyes, bites her lip and nods
silently. A couple of thick tears run in parallel down her cheeks.
She�s achingly beautiful to me and as much as like to see her
suffer, it�s nice she�s starting to appreciate me helping
her become a good girl.
And
speaking of making Emma suffer, I slide out of her and she gives a sigh
of relief which is quickly caught when she feels me at the entrance to
her little pussy. She�s starting to sob already and I notice her
head drop in exhaustion. I reach forward, take a handful of her long,
blonde hair and pull her head back at the screen. With my other hand I
guide myself a little way inside her, feeling my way, pushing her soft,
pliable flesh aside to make way for what�s to come.
On
the tv, the photo of Emma drops away, replaced by a recording of a room
full of reporters. At the end of the room, on a raised stage, is a
table. Some people are seen taking their seats.
Emma�s parents, Samantha and Peter, made this heartbreaking appeal for the return of their daughter.
On
the screen, a man and a woman huddled together like refugees speak into
the crop of microphones arranged in front of them. Cameras flash and
click as the assembled jackals sniff blood.
�Please, whoever has our little girl, please, let her go,�
the man says, his voice holds true and even, sounding detached and disbelieving. �She�s
just a little girl who should be home with her family, who love her and
miss her very much.�
�But
I love her now,� I say, and I push hard into Emma�s cunt
and she gives a scream of pain. I�ve not been inside her this
deep before. It�s mainly been fingers and slim toys and the tip
of me. But now, well lubricated as we both are, and to mark this
special occasion, I grit my teeth against the pain of her body
clenching around me and push.
Emma�s
scream tapers off into a wracking sob and I feel a thrill of pleasure
seeing her hands gripping the bedclothes, white knuckled. In the mirror
her head�s dropped again and I realise that I�ve let go of
her hair in order to better hold her in place for me to make love to
her.
I�m
deep enough in her now that I can afford to take her by the hair again.
I pull her head sharply back and drive forward again.
�Good
girl,� I whisper, breathless. �Good cunt for daddy. Good
little cunt.� Her wailing means she probably doesn�t hear
most of me telling her how I feel so I make sure she understands,
pulling her head hard back and over so she can see me.
�I
love fucking you, Emma. I love it and you have to learn to love it too.
You have to love me.� She looks terrified and I sympathise.
I�m asking a lot of her but I have faith and I think that,
together, when can get her where she needs to be.
I look at the screen, smile at what I see, and turn her head back to look.
Her
mum�s a pretty girl and I can see a lot of Emma in her; same cute
nose, same pouting lips. But the biggest similarity is the eyes and it
takes me a second to realise why, to understand that they both have the
same red rimmed, puffy, sleepless eyes. Haunted almost. Afraid.
�Please,
whoever you are� don�t� please� don�t
hurt her. Please. Just bring her back. Let her go. Please. I just want
my little girl back. I just want-�
and the rest is lost in great heaving sobs and I think they share some similarities in that, too.
�Mummy��
Emma says and I see in the mirror as she looks with big, glassy, wet
eyes at the woman. I pause the playback and she�s frozen
there. �Mummy� please�
Mummy�� Emma says, and her words are distorted by
sobs and gasps.
And
it�s ecstasy. I drive in and out of her tight, sweet little cunt,
short, sharp jabs, over and over. She gives bit by bit and I sink
incrementally deeper.
�You�re
never going to see her again, Emma,� I say and the little girl
gives a great screaming cry of anguish, hope ripped from her as I let
of her head to grip her perfect little ass and hammer into her.
I
don�t feel pain, even though later I�ll find out I bled
because of it. I like that I did, that I left my blood inside her cunt.
Cum, piss, spit; she�s experienced all of them, why not a little
blood?
By
the time I cum, Emma�s collapsed forward, her ass supported only
by hands, and the only sign of life as I pound away is the racking
breathes she takes with each thrust. I flood into her, pulling out to
send the last few spurts over her slick, used asshole. With a euphoric
gasp, I fall forward alongside her, turn on my side and pull her into
me.
�You�re
such a good girl for me, aren�t you? Such a good
girl�� and she says nothing. That�s ok. We�re
both tired and it�s been a traumatic night for her. I fumble for
the remote, kill the tv and eject the disc.
�Now,
bed for you young lady. Big day tomorrow. Someone I want you to meet.
One of daddy�s new friends. And they�re all very keen to meet you.�
I tuck her back under the covers and her glazed eyes barely do anything other than blink. So tired, poor girl.
After
locking the door, I go to the study and put the disc of the news
conference back with the others in the set. An awful lot�s
happened since I took Emma, but then it�s been almost two years.
She still has a lot to catch up on and I think she�s ready for
it. I think it�ll be good for her to see that her old life is
gone.
And it is, it really is. Long gone.
You
see, it couldn�t have worked out better. Daddy got the blame.
Police found a bunch of kiddie porn on his home computer, though none
of it of Emma. But there was some of her brother, Sean, who was only 5.
No details but, you know, a boy of 5� whatever it was, it was
wrong. Just wrong. He hung himself in prison and it�s hard to
imagine he did it alone, you know? Poor guy but hey, 5 year old
boy� Enough said.
That
was about 6 months ago. Shortly after, mommy took an overdose. Left a
note saying she blamed herself for not seeing it, not knowing her
husband and the father of her children was a man capable of such
things. She�s not dead but that�s only because of life
support. She�s vegetative and that�s not going to change.
I�ve
nearly got all tv news reports about all of this, too, and when I do
I�m going to make sure Emma sees that this world, my world, is
the only one she has left. Maybe that might make her a little more
appreciative of her new daddy.
I
mean, Sean�s no doubt adjusting to his new parents and I hope
he�s happy. After having such a rotten dad, he deserves to be.
I�m only glad I got Emma away in time. I know it�s hard for
her but in time she�ll understand and I�ll help her in
every way I can. That�s why I�m letting Adam meet her. He
knows about helping little girls settle into knew homes and how to help
them blossom and grow. He�s a doctor, well a plastic surgeon, and
he�s spoken about medication regimes, hormones and even a little
surgery.
Sounds
promising and I think it might help. Really, whatever it takes to make
this easier for us both can only be a good thing. Anything for my
beautiful Emma.