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HURTING JILL
by V.P. Viddler
Part One - The Father
Four o'clock in the morning. Mason, coming from the bathroom, heard Jill
gasping. Gasping and whimpering, as if in pain. What was wrong? In alarm, Mason
pushed open the door of his daughter's room, peering through darkness.
"Jill?"
"Shit!" Mason heard, a masculine voice, and sudden frantic thrashing
sounds.
"Daddy -- go away," Jill said, but Mason stood stricken, until a large
disheveled form sprang toward him, brushing him aside, running down the stairs
and away.
Rustling sounds now from Jill's bed. Mason now found presence to turn on
the light. Jill was arising from her bed, wrapping a blue terrycloth robe
hastily around her. Clothing, mostly Jill's, was lying on the floor and tossed
on a nearby chair.
Mason stood staring, thuderstruck. Jill, tying her robe, looked back at
him, half-defiant, half-guilty. A beautiful girl, Mason thought automatically.
So pretty. Jill's long straight blonde hair, a bit tousled now but still
glorious, hung down below her shoulders. Her soft brown eyes, somehow innocent
and knowing at once. Her mouth was -- her body -- god -- his daughter's body --
"Jill -- Jill, what -- what do you -- my god --"
Jill nodded. "All right, Daddy," Jill said. "All right. You caught us.
It's not a big deal. Okay?"
Mason was staring. "My god!" Mason said. "Jill -- you -- Christ -- you're
only -- you're still in high school --"
"Not for long," Jill said. "Anyway, I'm a big girl now, Daddy. You know
that, don't you, Daddy? You've noticed."
"Christ!" What could he say? He had noticed. Jill had noticed him
noticing. "Jill -- you -- you were -- you sounded like -- as if you were crying
or --"
"Were you listening, Daddy?" A small quirk of the mouth.
"I -- I was just going by, and -- I heard --"
"He was hurting me," Jill said. "I like it when he hurts me."
"You -- you what?"
"I like it when he hurts me," Jill said. "It turns me on. Now. What else
would you like to know, Daddy?"
"Jill -- you -- I should -- I ought to --"
"What, Daddy?" Jill said. "What would you like to do?"
Mason was silent.
"Go back to bed, Daddy," Jill said. "Just forget about this. It's not a
big thing. I know what I'm doing. All right, Daddy?"
Mason shook his head, stubbornly. "No," Mason said. "I can't just -- just
ignore this. You're my daughter. And you're still not of age. You can't just --
do things like this. I can't allow that. I have to -- do something to --"
"All right, Daddy," Jill said. "What do you want to do? You want to
punish me?" Jill took a slow step toward him. Instinctively Mason almost took a
step back, but stopped himself.
"Jill --"
"It's all right, Daddy," Jill said. "If you want to punish me, go ahead.
I guess I deserve it." Jill took another step toward him. "What do you want to
do to me, Daddy?"
"Jill -- I -- I don't think --"
"You want to spank me, Daddy?" Jill said. "Spank me hard? With your belt?
Is that what you want to do, Daddy?"
"Stop," Mason said. "Stop it. Just stop."
"I'm sorry," Jill said. "I thought you wanted to punish me."
"I do," Mason said.
"All right," Jill said. She was close to him now, and she put out a hand
to his belt buckle, and she began to open it."
"No!" Mason said.
Jill's hand stayed at his buckle. "Don't you want to hit me, Daddy?" Jill
said.
"Jill -- for god's sake --"
Jill pulled the buckle open. And slowly tugged at his belt, until it slid
around and out of its loops, and now it dangled from her hand. Jill held it out
to him, and slowly Mason took it. Then he put it down on a chair. Jill, looking
at him, stepped back from him. "You want to, Daddy," Jill said. "Don't you?"
"You -- damn it -- I want to -- Jill --"
"I know," Jill said. "All right. Do it."
Jill untied the belt of her robe.
"My god," Mason said. "Jill --"
"What, Daddy?" Jill said.
Mason said nothing. And Jill, slowly, slid the robe from her body and let
it fall to the floor.
She stood naked, still, as Mason's staring eyes moved over her body. All
over. Jill's breasts, high and firm and round, so gorgeous, with small
exquisite pink nipples. Jill's thighs, magnificently molded, curving lusciously
down into fine, intricately shaped calves. Jill's stomach, flat, smooth,
beckoning. Jill's hips. Jill's body. Jill. His daughter. Turning now, turning
slowly, to let him look at her back, her saucily thrusting buttocks, the form
of that body from all angles. And now facing him again. Naked.
"Jill -- you -- you bitch -- what are you --"
"Don't you like it, Daddy?" Jill said.
"You -- you should be --"
"I should be punished?" Jill said.
"Yes," Mason said. "Yes!"
"All right, Daddy," Jill said. "Shall I lie on the bed, so you can hit
me? Do you want to tie my hands, so I can't --"
"Stop!" Mason said. "You dirty bitch, you filthy --"
Jill's eyes went to his belt on the chair. "Tell me what you want,
Daddy," Jill said.
"Yes," Mason said. "I want to punish you. I want to hurt you. I want to
hit you. Yes."
"All right," Jill said.
"But you'll -- you'll make too much noise," Mason said. "You'll scream.
You'll wake up your mother and your brother."
Jill stood looking at him for a moment. Then she turned to the chair on
which some of her clothing was lying discarded, and took up the pair of pink
silk panties from on top of the pile. Bunching them up in her hand, she brought
them up to her face; then, looking straight into his eyes, she opened her mouth
as wide as she could, and slowly, deliberately, stuffed the panties into it.
Filling her mouth. Pushing them back into her throat, packing them tight,
stuffing in any bits of cloth that still hung out.
Mason could only stare, but he knew his breath was audible. His heart
must be also.
Now, mouth packed, cheeks distended, lips unable to close around that
pink wad, Jill turned to the chair again, taking up one of her stockings.
Which, calmly, she proceeded to place across her mouth, and around her head,
holding the panties in place, to prevent herself from being able to push them
out of her mouth. Now Jill was tying the stocking at the back of her head, just
lifting her hair out of the way; tying it, knotting it once, and again; pulling
the knot tight, so the stocking dug into her face until her flesh was bulging
around it. All the time watching Mason's eyes.
Mason, as Jill raised her arms to tie the stocking, could not help
dropping those eyes to Jill's enticing young breasts as they lifted with that
motion, swaying and quivering slightly as Jill worked at that knot.
Thoroughly gagged now, Jill took up the remaining stocking, which she
held out to Mason. A bit numbly, his loins throbbing, his brain awhirl, Mason
took it from her. Now the gagged and naked girl slowly and with an erotically
submissive gesture, held both arms out toward him, crossing them at the wrists.
Mason looked long at the soft, steady eyes above the gag. And felt
himself stiffening. It occurred to him as from a distance that he was in his
pajamas. How foolish he must look. Inexplicable rage swept him, a form of lust,
Mason knew; but he was lost now, and he brought the stocking up and swiftly
wrapped it around Jill's waiting wrists, pulling it tight, lashing her wrists
tightly together, twining it round, tying it off, knotting it doubly, as she
had with the other.
When it was done, Jill moved to the bed. As if in a dream Mason watched,
as Jill carefully let herself down onto that bed, lying down on it, on her
front, lying flat, her legs straight, flat, together, her breasts crushed
beneath her, and her bound arms stretching out toward the top of her bed, in
position to be tied to it; which Mason now did, pulling an end of the stocking
that bound her wrists around a horizontal rail at the bottom of the headboard,
pulling it until her arms lay taut, almost straining, and tying it that way.
Now Mason could look at the bound, waiting, outstretched body of his young and
naked daughter, the long, smooth expanse of back, the rising, lusciously
curving buttocks, the long, marvellous legs. He was almost panting now, lust
and rage filling him, and his belt was in his hand without his knowing how.
"All right," Mason said, not recognizing his voice. "All right, Jill. All
right." Through a haze he saw her. Where to -- that back -- Should he -- he had
to -- buttocks -- thighs -- Christ -- all of it -- he would --
Crack!
Almost unconsciously, but with all his strength. Across Jill's back. His
loins jumping. Jill's body leaped, Jill yelling into her gag. Only muffled
sounds came out. What a good job she had done. Again.
CRACK! Just below the first one. "Mmmmmghh!" Jill screamed.
Oh god. That body twisting in pain. Again.
CRRRRAAACCCKK!
Satisfying stripes across that smooth young back.
"MMMMMMMMMMMGGHHHH!" Arms straining as body writhed. Legs kicking up from
the bed. Then waiting. Panting, muffled gasping through her nostrils. But still
now, waiting.
CRRRAAAACCCCKK!
"NNNNNNNGGGGGHHHHH! MMNN-NNNNNNGGGHHH!!"
Hard, throbbing, lusting for what he couldn't have, Mason was into it
now. CRACK! Across those illicit buttocks, making Jill squirm and roll.
CRACCKKK! Across her thighs, brutally, again, again, listening to Jill's soft
screaming, again and again. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Wanting that stifled
screaming, wanting that body twisting and bucking with each blow, that head
rolling, hair shifting across that soft striped back, those thighs spasming,
calves kicking, and the "NNNGGHH! NNNGHH- NNNNNNGGG!!" at each crack. Across
Jill's thighs, and Jill's buttocks, and Jill's hips, and Jill's back. Again and
again and again, until he couldn't any more, arm giving out, breath rapid,
blood boiling through his body. Stopping. Standing, looking down at her, belt
dangling. And Jill gasping, whimpering into that gag, panting through her nose,
gradually quieting.
And Mason saying, in that stranger's voice, "Turn over."
Which Jill, slowly, painfully, did. Turning until she lay on her back,
looking up at him, lying there, arms straight above her head, pulling her
breasts up, showing all of them, only slightly flattened by that position,
rising and falling. All of her lying there. Waiting. Eyes watching him above
the tight gag, soft and full of pain and -- what? No begging. No recrimination.
Waiting. For more? For him to hit her again? On the breasts. On the stomach. On
the breasts.
His loins aflame. His cock hard, aching. Jill saw. Jill was looking at
his crotch, where his pajamas bulged with his obvious passion. "Mmmm," Jill
said. And she raised her right leg from the bed, raised that exquisitely
exciting leg, stretching it, to reach her foot toward his crotch, to touch that
bulge with her toes.
Startled, Mason jerked back -- but not enough. Jill's toes, now touching
his hard, erect cock. Rubbing it. Curling against it. Until now the pajamas
slid slightly, and his cock pushed through the open fly, standing stiff and
naked in the air. Mason couldn't move. Couldn't do anything. As Jill now slid
her foot along the length of that throbbing cock, slowly, deliberately,
caressing it, appreciating it.
"Mmm-nnnhh," Jill said.
"Jill," Mason said, croaking it. "Jesus -- Christ -- Jill --"
Now Jill lowered her leg again, lying as before. Looking at him.
"Mmm-nnnhh," Jill said into the gag. And then, slowly, gradually, spread her
legs for him. Watching him. Her legs parting. Opening. Wide. Wider. Splayed
now, ankles hooking over the sides of the bed, thighs straining. Jill's crotch
exposed. Open. Waiting. Jill's eyes on him.
"Mm-nnhh," Jill said, raising her hips. Offering herself. To him. His
daughter. So young. So wicked. So desirasble.
"Jill."
Waiting. Writhing. Beckoning. His pajamas fell. His pajama shirt, gone.
Naked now, naked as Jill. His hands on her body. Clasping her breasts. "Mmm,"
Jill was saying. "Mmhhh."
"Oh god!" Mason said, and now he was with her, on her, feeling all of
her, his cock poking, searching, finding --"God!" -- and taking, taking her,
taking Jill, taking his own daughter, taking, it was so good, it was glorious
and horribly evil. Doing it now, Jill under him, against him, squirming,
heaving, bouncing, and now those thighs clasping him, circling his body,
holding him to her, Jill moaning through that gag, moaning, gasping,
whimpering, and rage took him again and he pounded against her, battering her
body, pressing her whip-striped back against the bed, wanting to hurt her, and
Jill was loving it, twisting and mewling and bucking and spasming now, coming
under him, climaxing wildly, and Mason now too, coming hard into his daughter,
exploding his anger and lust and horror into that wanton body.
Did he black out then? But now he was almost sane again, untying Jill's
gag, pulling the panties from her mouth. Still lying on top of her, still.
"Daddy," Jill said, husking it. "Oh, Daddy."
"Shut up," Mason said. Untying her wrists now. But not taking his body
from hers.
"I love you, Daddy," Jill said.
"Stop it!" Mason said. "You're sick, Jill. You're an evil bitch. What can
I do with you?"
"Anything, Daddy," Jill said. "Anything you want. You want to punish me
some more?"
"You bitch," Mason said. "You like it too much."
"You like it too," Jill said.
"What you need," Mason said, "is a punishment that you won't enjoy so
much."
"Like what, Daddy?"
"I don't know," Mason said. "But I'll think of it."
"I think you're getting hard again, Daddy," Jill said.
"Shut up," Mason said. "I don't want you any more."
"Your cock wants me," Jill said, squirming against him.
"No." Mason tried to pull away, but gave in to Jill's arms and legs
around him.
"Daddy," Jill said. "I'm not gagged any more."
"So what?" Mason said. "If you think --"
"I mean," Jill said, "if you don't want to take me again, you could put
it in my mouth."
"What?" Mason said, his stomach dropping. Spinning.
"In my mouth," Jill said. "I want to taste it."
"Jill --"
"Taste it all," Jill said into his ear. "I'll suck it for you, Daddy.
Wouldn't you like that? I'll suck it until you shoot in my mouth, and I'll
swallow it for you. Okay, Daddy?"
His brain was sinking, it was unthinkable, but somehow he was crouching
over her, moving, crawling up on the bed, straddling her, moving up until he
was crouching above her face, bringing himself down to her mouth, his stiff
cock pointing at Jill's mouth, that mouth opening for him as Jill lay flat, as
before, arms still stretching to clutch the headboard, mouth open, lips eager,
parted, tongue waiting, and now Mason was probing at her lips, pushing past
them into her mouth, far into her mouth, all the way into Jill's welcoming
mouth, and Jill's soft lips closing around him, and her tongue licking at his
hard flesh, and all of her soft warm wet mouth holding him, taking him,
gloriously loving him, sucking, and now he was moving slowly, moving back and
forth, in and out, taking that mouth, fucking it, fucking his daughter's mouth,
in and out, going deep, deep, until Jill was holding him in her throat, gagging
slightly but taking him, and back, that tongue moving, caressing, and Mason was
going crazy with it, the pleasure of it, the ecstasy of it, and Jill all the
time looking into his eyes, looking at him as she sucked him, as he fucked her
face, softly, moaning around his cock. "Christ!" Mason said. "You're so good,
Jill, god, your mouth, your fine mouth and your soft lips and god you're
driving me crazy and I'm going to come, Jill, I'm --" And Jill said, "Nnngh-
nnnghh. Mmnnnghh." And Mason was coming now, shooting it all into Jill's
gulping throat, as Jill swallowed and swallowed and swallowed, moaning,
gasping, licking at him still until he had nothing more to give her.
Mason fell beside her, exhausted, and then said, "I know. I know!"
"What, Daddy?"
"I know what to do with you now, Jill," Mason said. "It's perfect. YOu
may not like it, Jill darling, but that's what punishment is supposed to be
about, isn't it? I'm going to like it. And I'm quite sure your brother will,
too."
"Danny?" Jill said. "You mean Danny? What does that little twerp have to
say about it?"
"Now, Jill," Mason said. "That little twerp is only a year younger than
you. In fact, as I'm sure you are aware, today is Danny's birthday."
"So what?" Jill said, but Mason heard a touch of fear in her voice. He
smiled.
"Well, Jill," Mason said. "You're going to be Danny's birthday present.
From me."
"What!" Jill sat up, blazing. "No way! No damn way!"
"Now, Jill," Mason said. "Just think how happy Danny will be to be given
his sexy big sister for his birthday. I'll bet he thinks about your body all
the time."
"I'll bet he does, too," Jill said. "That little bastard is always trying
to catch me naked, or looking up my skirt or trying for a quick feel. That
filthy jerk!"
"But now he'll have the real thing, won't he? All his. What a gift for a
growing boy."
"No!" Jill said. "I won't do it. Christ, that's sick! I hate that little
cockroach. Just forget it, Daddy. I won't. No way. God, it makes me sick just
to think of it. I won't, that's all."
Mason sat up also. "All right then, Jill," Mason said. "Let me put it
this way." With sudden swiftness his hand shot out and twisted in Jill's long
blonde hair, pulling her head back cruelly, holding her that way. Jill cried
out, her body arching backwards with the painful pull on her scalp, making her
breasts thrust invitingly.
Gasping with pain, Jill swiftly brought her hands up to his in a
reflexive attempt to pry it away, but it was obviously futile, and Jill dropped
her hands, writhing with pain, head pulling back, neck stretching, torso
arching tautly. Jill's moans and gasps now took on a new coloration, still
agonized, but with more than pain in them now. A quality Mason had heard from
outside her door, not long ago.
"You're right," Mason said, pulling harder on Jill's hair. "You're right,
Jill. You do like pain. You like to be hurt. You hate it, but you love it too.
Isn't that right, Jill darling?"
"Yes," Jill said, gasping. "Yes, Daddy... yes... please..."
"Please what?" Mason said. "Please stop? Is that it? Make up your mind,
Jill. Do you like it or not? Do you really want me to stop? Do you, Jill?"
"Yes --" Jill said, moaning it. "No -- I -- I don't know -- oh god, oh
Daddy god --"
"Look at you," Mason said. "You're hurting like hell, but you still can't
help loving it. It turns you on, all right. Your nipples are all hard, Jill.
All stiff and pointy."
"I know," Jill said. "I know. Please, Daddy." Mason held her as she was.
"Such pretty young nipples," Mason said. "Now what if I did something nice to
them, Jill? Something like this." And bringing his free hand to Jill's breast,
Mason snapped hard with his fingers, snapping the small stiff protruding pink
nipple quite sharply with his fingernail. Jill gave a loud gasp of pain.
"That was nice, wasn't it, Jill?" Mason said. "Should I do it again?"
"Daddy -- no -- I --"
"Okay," Mason said, and did it again. Hard. Jill shouted, and her body
twisted, pulling her hair harder, bringing another cry of pain.
"How about the other one?" Mason said.
"Daddy -- no --" But Mason did it anyway. And then again. And again. Jill
was sobbing now, writhing on the bed, almost screaming at each blow.
"How about it, Jill?" Mason said. "You want to be a good girl and give
this sexy body to your brother for his birthday?" He tugged Jill's hair
brutally, now clamping his thumb and forefinger onto Jill's pained and
throbbing nipple, thoughtfully squeezing it. Jill was squirming continuously,
caught agonizingly between unsupportable anguish and uncontrollable passion.
"Ahh!" Jill said. "Owww! Daddy -- I -- don't -- Ahhh! Augghh! All right!
All right! I will! Yes! Ahh! Stop! Please oh Jesus all right I'll do it oh damn
Daddy stop ahh ahh --"
Mason let Jill go. Shaking now, filled with agony and ecstasy, Jill was
crying. Slumping now with her face in her hands, she was to Mason more
diabolically desirable than ever. But he ignored his rising passion. "All
right, Jill," Mason said. "That's enough. Put your hands down."
Slowly Jill got control of herself, putting her hands down and turning to
face him. In Jill's eyes now Mason saw a true submissiveness, which was so
arousing that he could scarcely hold back an impulse to have his daughter
again; but now he was also excited by this new direction he had thought up for
his willful daughter's castigation.
"Now," Mason said, "I think we might as well give Danny his birthday gift
right away, don't you, Jill? I'm fairly sure he won't mind being woke up for
such an occasion. What do you think?"
"Daddy --" Jill said. "Daddy, I -- I don't want to do that. Oh god, I
really don't."
"I know," Mason said. "I know that, Jill. But you will, won't you? You'll
do just as I say from now on. Won't you, Jill?"
"I -- Yes," Jill said, whispering it. "Yes, Daddy."
"Good," Mason said. "Now let's see. I don't think you have to get
dressed, do you? I think Danny's pleasure will only be intensified if I bring
you to him naked. Don't you think so, Jill?"
"Yes," Jill said in a low voice. "The filthy cockroach will love it."
"Right. But a present should be wrapped in some way, shouldn't it. Lie
down, Jill. On your stomach. And put your hands behind you."
"Daddy --"
"Do it," Mason said. And Jill did. Slowly and reluctantly she lay down,
turning on her front. "Hands back," Mason said. "Cross your wrists."
"Daddy --" Jill said.
"What?" Mason said. "What, Jill?"
Jill said nothing. She brought her arms back and crossed her wrists for
him. Using the stocking that had held her panty-gag in place, Mason quickly
bound Jill's wrists tightly together.
"Good," Mason said. "Now my gift is properly tied. All right, Jill. Let's
go surprise Danny. I can't wait to watch the expression on his face..."
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