Date: Tue, 31 Jan 2017 01:26:26 -0600 From: Mister Dan Subject: A High School Slut's Business: Chapter 1 Authors note: This one is mostly a smut based story, with lots of sex scenes between teenaged males and adult males, as well as including scenes of incest and non-consensual sex in origin. If this offends you, or is illegal in any way, move along and pick another story or site. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story as much as I hope to enjoy it. I won't say no to feedback and advice, but be forewarned, I have little patience, what others call an inflated ego, and what can be misconstrued as a pretentious attitude. Though don't be alarmed, while me ego may be easily bruised, I'm not pretentious so I won't ever deliver sanctimonious diatribes in this piece. However, if that sentence hasn't made it clear, I do reserve the right to use as extensive for a vocabulary as I can, because while this is user generated erotic novel site, I hate crap pieces of reading, no matter how steamy you think the sex is. I feel anything poorly written causes a break in the escapism feature of these pieces, and you either find it hard or impossible to encase yourself in the fantasy worlds created within these carefully crafted words, or to keep the illusion alive. Anyways, the gist is feedback is always welcomed as long as you're not a moron. And donate to Nifty. Also, don't do this at home kids. Chapter 1: A Very Complex Origin, in Which I Learn a Lot More about Myself Than I Ever Wanted to Know. Oh, and I Lose My Virginity. I guess my therapist, if I ever actually felt the need to see one—so let's just suppose I have a therapist—which I have never felt the need to, would say I have always been slightly unhinged or deranged with deviant and perverted behaviors. Of course, I thought I was pretty normal. I went out with chicks, as much as you can even really go out with girls when you are in the eighth grade, spent most of my free time hanging out with my friends playing video games or sports, and had absolutely no clue what the adult world of sex entailed. What little knowledge I cultivated was passed down be the ever so wise elder brothers of my friends, from the internet, or from the almost unbelievable, absolutely not made up, one hundred percent true detailing of personal accounts that came spilling from my eager brotherhood of virginal fantasizers that failed to live entirely in reality. As far as I knew, I was the only one amongst my friend group which had even managed to actually get to base with a real life girl from earth. Luckily for me, she also went to our school and was my girlfriend, so there was indisputable proof as compared to my pal Garrett's girl who lived in the "next town over." Mandy, my gorgeous girlfriend, was definitely a hot piece of ass, by which I mean she was the most developed girl of our grade and had not too bad facial features. By now, I don't even really recall what she looked like, but the point is that the entire school was jealous of me, which they should be for more reasons beyond who I was dating and making out with publicly every chance I got to rub my friends noses in it. I guess I was pretty decent looking (most of the girls said I was the hottest guy in our grade, but come on, this was eighth grade—not only is there not much competition, but they probably only said it because I was considered Mr. Popular for dating Mandy and being super involved), which to break it down, at the time I was among the tallest of my grade (I think somewhere around 5'3" or 5'4"), kept my naturally red hair medium cropped in a non-douchey, non-Bieber like style, had bright baby-blue eyes, and had a decent musculature from both my years of soccer and swimming, and my newly developed intense devotion to filling my body out "for sports." Like I said, most of the girl's said I was hot, but looking back on it, I think a more accurate descriptor would definitely be cute, and I got the attention I deserved from it. Thankfully being more than just nice arm candy at the time, I was the obvious choice of captain for soccer, was thought of highly enough to be the vice-captain for swimming, managed to get voted President of the Student Council in the first month of school, and was thought of as highly intelligent by both teachers and peers alike. Some of this probably sounds like the words of a braggart retelling a hyperbolized memory, but I can assure you that while yeah, I was all those things, I nowhere near thought of myself as intelligent as others claimed I was, and proven true I was as I went on in life and found many people much smarter than me who were truly geniuses. So hopefully I was able to paint a picture of myself at a crucial point in my life, and explain how I managed to have on my arms the best looking girl in our grade. Though, to finish off and be fair I guess I should explain that Mandy was none of those things and honestly was only popular because she was the only girl in our grade who really had to wear a bra. So we were in love, at least as in love as two eighth graders could be at a point where they're not even able to think with their dicks at the time, and hung out all the time, making out in almost every spot possible where there was a reasonable chance of not getting caught by an adult and flaunting our status to our jealous peers. Therefore, it wasn't too surprising that I was out late on a Friday taking Mandy out on a "date" that really only consisted of us taking a walk in the park halfway between our two houses and making out in the bushes for a few hours, where she adamantly refused to let me feel up her tits and ass, or even to relieve some of my pressure by grinding against her. "Stop," Mandy moaned into mouth, removing my hand from where it had slipped dangerously close to her bra. "Come on," I whined as if begging for my life, which at the time I really did believe I would die if she didn't let me touch her or allow me to get off. "Just one touch won't change anything." I put my hand back on the spot she had removed it from, and continued towards the gentle mounds of the Promised Land. This time she slapped my hands away, jerked away from me, and glared as if I was the filthiest hobo she had ever laid eyes on, letting out a screech of utter indignation. Finally giving up, understanding that it was her body and her rights, I just let out a sigh of exhausted disappointment. "No means no," Mandy bit off each word, as if I was a fucking toddler. "I think we just need to go home and cool off. It's late anyways, and you're not worth getting a lecture from my parents." Throwing up my hands in defeat, I told her good night and we began making our ways home, walking in opposite directions. Glancing at my phone, I noticed I had missed about five calls from my dad, and there were almost twice as many texts asking where I was. "Shit," I muttered to myself as I realized that not only was he pissed, he was also probably off his ass piss drunk. Now, don't jump to any conclusions, my dad wasn't an alcoholic, and he normally was a pleasant person when wasted. Recently though, my parents have been going through a very rough patch, resulting in my mother being out of the house most of the time, and my dad's drunken personality took a slight dive for the worse, still non-abusive, but not exactly anything pleasant enough to get him a Mr. Sunshine of the year award. Resigned to getting my ass chewed out, I began in earnest to make the trek home, if only to save my dad the worry of wondering where I was past curfew. Luckily, the park wasn't too far from my house, and I arrived at my doorstep in only a couple of minutes, nervous to take the berating I was about to receive, especially since almost every light in the house on, and I could see him through the living room window wearing a rut into the floor with how much pacing he was undertaking. With a deep breath, I opened the door and braced myself. "Jason David Allen, get your ass in hear!" My dad roared out immediately from the living room. Trying to look as sheepish as possible, I gave an apologetic grin as I looked at my outraged father, who looked to actually not be as drunk as I had guessed. "Sorry dad, I—" "Don't you dare try and pull that innocent looking crap," He bellowed before I could finish. "I don't care if you were fucking your way through the entire cheerleading squad, when I fucking call you, you fucking answer, and you don't fucking miss your curfew when you're only thirteen fucking years old." I was just kind of stunned for a moment, while he wasn't as drunk as I thought he would be, he was a lot more pissed off then I had ever seen him. Never in my life had I even heard the man drop the F bomb, and he had yelled it at me five times within a single minute. This was going to be a lot more difficult to manage than I thought, and I was going to have to face the strong possibility of very severe punishment from the man. "Sorry, I didn't even know it was on silent." I apologized as profusely as I could to convey my sincerity. "I was with Mandy, and one thing lead to another and we just got caught up in the moment." "In the moment?!?" He growled furiously. "It was more than a fucking moment that you were lost in with that fucking slut. I've been calling you for 3 fucking hours. I was just about to go call the fucking police and the feds and mount up a search party. The only fucking reason I didn't was because Mandy's parents couldn't fucking find the whore either." Again I was shocked, and almost made the dangerous mistake of protesting against my dad's claims of Mandy being a slut. Luckily I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut because I wasn't a fool who wanted to be killed, or worse, grounded without cell phone access for eternity. "Sorry," I mumbled, just trying to roll over and take it, feeling my own anger burn at the tirade he had unleashed about my girlfriend. "I don't even understand how you could even think it would be even remotely responsible or possible that it would be fine for you to stay out this late. Use your fucking head! I mean I already know the bimbo doesn't have two brain cells to rub against each other, but did I raise a fucking moron who can't even see pass a tiny set of tits?" So I know it's not exactly reasonable. Almost everything else he had said at this point really was grounds for me to snap. But for reasons I still cannot comprehend, his deservedly accurate, but to me belittling, representation of Mandy's breasts were what made go off on him. "Fucking lay off her!" I shouted back, nearly matching his volume with my own cracking voice. "So I forgot to look at my phone for a few hours. And forgive me for not wanting to be in this empty house which is a huge fucking reminder that you and mom are going through shit that she doesn't want to deal with. And for the record, Mandy is not fucking slut! I almost fucking wish she was! We made out for two fucking hours, and she didn't allow me to touch anything or get me off! So no! She's not a fucking whore, so go stuff a dick in your face, asshole!" Needless to say, as soon as I had finished delivering that delightfully well-articulated piece of oration, I quickly clammed up as my dad's face got redder and redder. I swear to god I could literally see the beginning of steam coming out his ears, he was that red and that angry. "Dad," I began after a moment of shell shocked silence, beginning to back track and salvage the situation. "I didn't mean to—" "Oh I think you knew what you were fucking doing boy." He said bitterly, stalking closer to me not unlike how a tiger goes after its prey. "You thought you had the right to fucking talk back and defend yourself. But let's get one thing straight, boy. This ain't no court of law, and you don't have any fucking rights right now." With that he roughly grabbed me and began dragging me to my room up the stairs, with a grip so solid, I'm pretty sure he was beginning to bruise the bone. He nearly kicked down my door, and threw me on my bed. In what seemed like a seamless sequence of moves, he flipped me onto my front, slipped off his belt, used it to secure both my hands to a bar in the headboard, and ripped off my pants and underwear. I was positive he was about to spank me, and within moments he proved me right, delivering over a dozen loud smacks in quick and brutal succession, making my ass feel absolutely raw. Hoping it was over, I let out a sob in thanks, sniveling snot like a bastard crybaby at this point. "You think you can fucking think with your underdeveloped prick, boy!" He chastised, still hovering in his position kneeling between my legs. "You don't even have enough of a cock to begin to think with! Let me show you how a real man thinks with his dick you pansy ass pussy. Stop your fucking crying!" I was really confused at his words, but I knew enough to be really afraid at that point and began struggling with the belt that held my hands. My dad almost immediately spanked my ass five more times, stopping the desperate escape attempt. Grabbing my hair, he roughly jerked my head back so he could whisper in my ear. "Stop your fucking squirming boy, and take your fucking punishment like a man!" I shivered at the words, and am ashamed to admit I let out more than a few sobs at his ominous threat. I watched, dazed as he grabbed the lotion I kept by my bed to jerk off with, and began pouring a generous amount of it onto his hands. I quickly figured out what he needed it for though when he jabbed a finger in my exposed ass, and began spreading the lotion there. "Yeah, I knew you would have a fine, tight ass." He crooned as he continued to molest me to the backdrop of my desperate howls of protest and even harder sobbing. What really confused me was how good it felt. Now, don't get me wrong, it wasn't the circumstance that was getting me off, it was just that apparently my ass was so sensitive to this kind of ministration that my body was beginning to not care that I was essentially being raped. I really tried to hold in the groans of pleasure that began to build up as one finger became two, and two became three, as he continued to finger some hidden sweet spot in my ass. "Such a beautiful fucking ass. Just like your bitch mom's." My dad growled lustily as he began to lose his pants and grease the beast he revealed. My eyes grew wide at what looked like a behemoth to me at the time, a thick piece of meat that was easily seven and a half inches. My fear began to rise again, and I renewed the previously abandoned futile struggle. "No daddy!" I pleaded in a shrill voice that sounded unnatural to me. "Please don't stick that in me, it won't fit! It'll kill me!" I really believed it, and I was sweating balls and even the idea of taking something like that in what I had previously thought was an exit only chute. "Don't be absurd," he said, giving me a brief moment of relief. "Of course sluts like you can take it!" With that he eased it in against all my protests and attempts to dislodge him. I could feel his balls against me and the itchy feeling of his pubic hair against my butt as he held his full length in me, giving me a few merciful moments to adjust and get used to his size and the intrusion. Apparently, after a couple of minutes he figured I had had enough time I began sliding in and out of my ass. "Oh fuck does that ass feel good" He half moaned half growled as he plowed into me on a particularly hard thrust. "I just fucking knew your slutty ass was going to feel the fucking best. Much better than that bitches." I guess I was a little flattered that he thought my ass was better than the woman who gave birth to me, and I did have to admit the man knew how to fuck because he was making me feel all sort of feels with his dick sawing in and out of me. It felt a lot fucking better than jacking off, and had to fight off groaning or pushing into it to avoid giving him the satisfaction of realizing I was enjoying it. The most shocking thing though, was the jolt I kept getting every time he called me a slut. It was like that word was hardwired to my dick, which was in full blown erection mode, and if the wet feeling was anything to judge by, was leaking like a faucet. As my dad continued to pound into me, getting a little more rough as time went on, the feelings kept on getting better, until I no longer cared that I had been forced into it, and only want the feelings to never end. I was really getting into it, and probably let out a few moans and groans of pleasure for him to hear, and it was most likely not that hard to see my ass beginning to meet his thrusts. My dad just started to laugh at that, and kept up the slutty name calling, which if anything was driving me to get even more into it. Unfortunately, as all good things do, the session was quickly approaching an end. At the time I was too inexperienced to accurately judge it, but even I could tell that he was getting close with his short labored breaths and increasingly needy thrusts. But before he could get his release, I was desperate to get my own, and wiggled my ass to drive the wonderful feeling I was getting over the edge. I must have maneuvered into a particularly good sweet spot, because only a couple thrusts later I was having an orgasm greater than any I had ever had jacking off, and absolutely sprayed my load onto my chest and bed. As my ass clenched repeatedly in response to the amazing feelings coming from my ass as I blew, it must have overstimulated my dad, because he absolutely lost it not even a second later, spilling the product of his sin into my guts, letting out an almost inhuman howl as he did so. After he finished, he collapsed onto my back, not even bothering to pull out, gently nipping at the nape of my neck as he grinded into me. He fumbled with the belts holding my hands for a moment, freeing me before he promptly rolled off me and literally started snoring. Not even making this up, he legitimately fell asleep and started snoring as soon as he was done. I got up from the bed, rubbing my sore wrists as I mulled over everything that had just happened. I was definitely confused and I really needed to think, so I progressed to leave the room, turning off the light as I left, and wandered into the kitchen for a late night snack and something to drink, not even bothering to don some clothes. Satisfied, I sat on a couch in the living room, collecting my thoughts and meditating on what I should do. I mean, I enjoyed it, which I never thought possible, but the man did technically rape me. Then again, he was my dad, and I honestly didn't even really care that he did that to me. In some ways I felt grateful, he had opened up a whole new world of possibilities to me I had never even considered. In fact, I had enjoyed it so much, I was certain I could never quit. Whatever attraction I had felt for the members of the fairer sex were demolished at this point, and I just didn't care. All I wanted was to be daddy's little slut. Now I know how this sounds, and no, my dad didn't break me and I didn't lose my grip on reality. Like I started off saying, I think I was always a little off, and was just able to act normal enough that people hadn't realized that I didn't feel the full range of emotions or as strongly as most people did. I just honestly enjoyed being called a slut, thoroughly enjoyed having my ass plowed, didn't think my dad looked half bad, and he could potentially be an endless source of cock. Continuing to mull it over for another half hour, I grinned as a plan began taking shape in my head. Committed to what I was going to do, I made my way upstairs, turning off all the lights my dad had previously left turned on before slipping into bed next to my dad, excited for the next day and what it would bring. End note I: It is sad that I misspelled Bieber and my word processor had the correct spelling in its database. God I hate that twerp. End note II: So I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of my first story on here. Literally this practically wrote itself. I have another story I am working on bringing onto here, but I only have half as much and have worked on it maybe four times as long. Anyways, because I wrote it so fast, I didn't really feel like editing, so if y'all find any mistakes let me know and I'll correct it in my personal files, just for posterity's sake. And if anyone would want to help me edit future chapters, just let me know, and I'll get into contact with you. I guess it wouldn't be right if I didn't finish by saying please give feedback, and considering donating to Nifty.