Come What May (FatherxSweet)

[Sweet Nothings]

Sophie exhaled. While she understood the value of family, her first year of college was turning into such a great time in her life. With new friends, classes that she actually cared about and a strange sense of freedom, all signs pointed towards a blossoming young woman. With the holiday season fast approaching, it was now her duty to return home. Of course Sophie loved her Father. He made sure she kept out of trouble, helped her with school work, and always offered her a few extra dollars when she’d ask to go to the movies with friends. He might have kept a shorter leash than other parents did, but it was for her own good. Or at least that’s how it had always been explained.

Driving the speed limit down familiar roads, getting back was pure muscle memory as she finally ended the three hour drive and pulled into the parking lot at the end of the generic suburban street. After collecting her suit case and back pack she stepped out of her car and locked the door behind her. She punched in a code which immediately sent the garage door up and exposed the empty space where her Father parked. “Ugh, really?” Looking at her watch it was six-thirty. She figured that he would have been home from work by now. Had he forgotten she was coming back today?

Regardless the door from the garage to their home was always unlocked, so she reached for the knob and paused at its refusal to budge. How strange. It took her a moment to fish for her house keys, but eventually she found them and unlocked the door. “Dad, are you home?” Nothing. With a shrug she closed the door and placed her back pack on the kitchen counter. The suitcase was wheeled to her bedroom and thrown on her mattress. It was impressive how he left it the same.

Sophie took a seat on her bed and pulled out her phone. She texted some friends and took to complaining about how dull the house was. Her thumbs typed at a feverish pace that was average for her, “lol, home alone!! why did he even want me back if he’s not even—“ Suddenly, a dull metal clang reverbed nearby. Lowering her screen, the girl stood and peered out her bedroom window. Maybe there was some kind of construction going on. Listening for more, there was nothing. Just as she was prepared to brush the noise off, it came again. Pang!

She left her room, standing in the hall. “Hello?” Pang, pang! The noises were oddly rhythmic, enabling the strangest game of hot and cold to be played. Entering the kitchen the sounds grew dull, yet as she approached her Father’s den it grew louder. His den was always closed. Even with the door open she had always been told to call from the threshold; it was off-bounds. Nervously, she grabbed the handle. If it was a pipe about to burst, surely he’d want her to go in and look, right? Pang!

Taking a deep breath, Sophie turned the knob, closed her eyes, and pushed the door open. It took her a few moments to gather the courage to open her eyes. Nothing. A large mahogany desk, an expensive desktop computer, various awards from work hung on the walls. She was almost calmed by how utterly average it all looked. Stepping in caused the hard wood floor to creak and unleashed a fresh wave of noises. Pang, pang, pang! There wasn’t something wrong with the house, this was something reacting to her movement. Inside the den it was louder than ever, but where was it coming from? Using a keen eye, the girl noticed an odd lump under a portion of the rug. What was that?

Grabbing a corner and pulling back, a large, shimmering hinge was her reward. “What..?” She pulled more of the rug away, revealing an actual trap door. All of her movement must have been telling, the sounds she’d been following grew to a desperate pace. Sophie’s stomach rolled. Why did the door look so new? Why did the noises get louder the closer she got? With her heart in her throat she sank to her knees and wrapped her fingers around the sunken-in handle that looked far too modern for what a trap door ever should. It was heavy; she could hardly even lift it. But the moment an inch of light cracked down into the darkness, Sophie’s greatest fears were revealed. She heard something muffled and writhing around, metal on metal clashing for attention.

What fresh hell was this? The light excited whatever it was down there and she couldn’t ignore it. Prying the door fully open, she located a small set of stairs and stood on the first step down. Whatever was hiding down here gave the girl the impression that it wasn’t a puppy for Christmas.

 

[Father Figure]

Something was terribly wrong with Sophie's father.

Nobody could have guessed from the way he went about his life, the quintessential business man. A single father who lived the lifestyle of the upper middle class, his job allowed for him to seem to be beyond his means with only his beautiful daughter to care for. As a partner in a large brokerage he had options available to him that most men never did, and while people could place blame upon such villains as he for the economic woes of the country....well he could frankly care less. After all there were much worse things that the man did. Yet his life was pristine, elegant even, hardly a show of the monster that he was. The house was a beautiful Victorian affair, partially updated to modern times with additions that did not necessarily impact the overall appeal of the original dwelling. The car a gorgeous Chrysler 200, jet black and sleek, sporting all the bells and whistles. Nothing hinted at the kind of man who hid behind the eyes of that smiling, urbane visage.

Pulling up behind her vehicle he raised an eyebrow as he checked the time. Admittedly he had been running late, that was true, but he did not realize that he had been running that late. He had imagined he'd had more time. More time to adjust things, more time to ensure everything was going perfectly fine. Her father had secrets, secrets upon secrets and it was those that would spell trouble should he ever been caught. Oh, he imagined that what he was doing was immoral and certainly illegal, but he was not overly burdened by a measure of guilt concerning it. No, that did not enter his mind in the slightest. All that mattered in his particular eyes was the fact that everything was kept in order, everything was kept properly in place.

Her being home before him was not...properly in place.

He stepped out of the car. He cut a striking figure standing there in the evening light, his suit lending a slimming to his heavy frame, giving that V-shape that people appreciated in a male figure. His hand unconsciously moved to the jacket, buttoning it as his other hand took hold of his briefcase and he let the car door shut slowly...softly. His footsteps were lighter than normal, as if he were already hunting, already well aware that something was wrong in the air. It was, he could feel it, a shuddering down deep into his gut. Something was amiss. His head tilted for a moment, sunlight catching his glasses, his features cool and quiet...and as he stepped into the house he began to traverse towards the only place of danger that could exist, the only place that mattered...

...and the door to his office was open.

 

[Sweet Nothings]

The darkness loomed beneath her. Sophie had never been a brave girl; keep safe, avoid confrontations. She tugged her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and opened her flash light app. The small light hardly revealed anything at all. After taking a deep breath and pumping herself up, the girl began the slow decent into darkness. The lack of visibility was practically crushing; she felt her lungs struggling for air.

Finally, the heel of her shoe hit what sounded like concrete. The entire time she could hear something amiss. Breathing and a strange shuffling against the floor echoed dully in the dark. “H-Hello…?” Her voice earned another burst of huffing.

Pang, pang, pang!

The sound rang through her brain, practically migraine-inducing. She whimpered while stepping away from the square of light that the door above her offered. With her small light beaming ahead of herself, she approached the sound. Her hip bumped into something; a table? Why were there belts hanging over the sides? Her palm blindly ran over the surface while attempting to locate what she’d assumed to be an animal. “I-I’m here to help you…” What the hell did you say to a mysterious noise?

Sooner than later, the source would be discovered. She seemed to be approaching a wall; plain cement with all kinds of strange utensils hanging in what would likely be an organized mess. A chain shimmered in her light. No, wait—it moved! Following it down was a decision she wished she had never been made. Right in the crosshairs of her light, exhausted and worn, hung a nude young woman. Gagged, blindfolded and hoisted up to her toes, it was obvious that she had been there a while.

“Oh my god!” Her exclamation reverbed through the room and into her Father’s den. The body, the woman, was covered in whip welts and looked sore. Sophie bounded forward and grabbed at the blindfold, tugging it away to gift her sight. “Are you okay?! I’m going to get you out of here.” Biting her phone between her teeth, both of her hands worked to remove the gag. Her fingers trembled as she worked. It was impossible to ignore her tears, which only made the young girl more nervous as she finally loosened the strap and the rubber ball fell from her mouth.

How did the chains work? Looking up, she found the source of the banging. The woman had been rocking her body to force the chains to scrape against a pipe along the ceiling of the room. Sophie began to look for a lever, a button, anything at all that could lower the woman to freedom. It was so dark; she bumped into countless strange pieces of furniture attempting to locate a control.

 

[Father Figure]

He had been found out. It resonated inside of him, not in a measure of guilt but in a brief moment of uncertainty. That was the terrible thought, that was the true fear, that he could experience a lack of certitude and an overwhelming sense that his world was not within his control. It upset him in a way that no amount of guilt, no amount of worry, no amount of fear every could have. The one sheer fact was that he had been found out, and that was unfortunately his daughter who was doing the finding. He heard her downstairs, heard her exclamation crying out to some divine force that was not going to help her...or the woman who was down there. No, there was nothing divine in this world...he was no atheist, he did not care one whit about what science said, the truth was if there was something divine then something like him would never exist.

He was a true sociopath.

His lips pressed together for a moment as he considered the options before him and his hand moved to touch the door behind him, slowly shutting the office and clicking the lock. First order of business, first thought in any situation...prevent all exit strategies. While his little girl was moving around, while she was panicking and trying to get herself under control, he moved over to the window and slowly closed the curtains to the office after locking it. Finally he took a deep breath and moved over to the landline, something left over from days before cell phones, and he unplugged it...he imagined she still had her phone, but he had long ago learned that the basement prevented signals from being had.

AT&T and Verizon just didn't do a good enough job for victims.

His took a moment to consider and moving to open his briefcase he idly pulled free his gloves, sliding them on. He never touched a victim's flesh, never actually took the time to have that physical moment. Oh, he did enjoy fucking them, he had no problems using his actual phallus....but his hands, for some reason that abhorred him and he always wore gloves when abusing, using, and violating the young flesh that he held captive. His poor daughter, he had loved her and now...now he discarded the emotion as if it had never existed. Now, she was just another victim....and he slowly moved over to the trap door, coming down the first few stairs, and then closing it behind him...the first sound he was sure that his lovely angel would be able to hear.

Father was home.

 

[Sweet Nothings]

The will power required to simply stay in the hidden room was great enough to deplete Sophie’s nerves in under five minutes. Compounded with darkness and a silently weeping woman hanging from the ceiling, this was easily the most nerve-wracking moment of her life. She was stumbling through a scene that previously was only known to exist in movies. Yet here she stood, blindly feeling about for a method of freeing what could only be described as a captive. The thought alone made the sights of her small flashlight quiver.

Alas, salvation! While skirting along a wall, her light uncovered a small panel built in with three buttons. The arrows indicated up, down, and halt. Pressing the down arrow sent a small belt into movement which rotated the spool of chain and began to slowly lower the woman. It was torture to wait for her wrists to sink low enough for her to be able to reach them. All she could hear were her footsteps while bounding towards the woman. A close view of her wrists made the girl’s skin crawl; abrasions that would have taken much longer than a single night to create were impossible to ignore. “Hurry..” The voice was hoarse, likely from screaming.

Time seemed to have frozen. The sight of this beaten woman paired with her gravel-like tone seemed to strike her stupid. Tears began forming in her eyes. What the fuck was going on under her house?! Sophie choked back a sob while attempting to regain her senses. Help. They needed help. Sniffling, she dialed 911. As a child she had never thought of prank calling emergency services; seeing the short number displayed on her screen sent another wave of tears. For a brief moment she felt relief. Assistance would arrive, everything would be fixed.

It all happened so fast.

The girl lost all composure as a familiar tone cut half way through the second ring. Nausea ran through her at the sound of the automated recording, “We’re sorry; your call could not be completed as dialed. Please hang up and try again.” Her immediate instinct was to run back towards the exit and try again. Just as she turned, her eyes briefly caught sight of a dark silhouette as the hatch door was already half pulled shut. Oh what the actual fuck. The sound of the exit closing rang through the room. This time it was the woman on the floor that started to cry.

Sophie was done, she wanted out. She couldn’t believe what she just witnessed. Not only was she dealing with a prisoner, but now the captor seemed to have entered the equation. If breathing wasn’t difficult before, it certainly was now. With a pounding heart she turned off her small flash light. Cloaked in complete darkness, she hoped for some sort of a chance at safety. Her plan might have been more effective if she still had the willpower to move. She feared that moving would make too much noise and reveal her position. The only thing she could hear was her heart; a pin drop would have sent her scampering.

 

[Father Figure]

The trap was closed.

He had not expected to ensnare his daughter. This was often the part where he had come downstairs with a lady he had abducted and they began to realize that things were never going to be the same. The very idea that they could be was ludicrous. If the dumb little toys had even one iota of intellect within them they would have understood that by the very fact that he did not hide his face...that they would never be surviving what would happen. It was almost laughable, if he had such an emotion as laughter inside of him. No, there was nothing there but the emptiness. The emptiness that was in his very soul. The emptiness that seemed to radiate from him as he came down the stairs. He somehow made the darkness more so, the abyss seeming to stand there, oblivion given the shape of a man. He moved his gloved hand out and touched the wall and there he found the small panel to turn on the overhead lights.

They flickered, the long tubes set into the ceiling. Her father liked to have full lighting when he worked and it revealed the horror of what was below in it's full glory. It showed his work space so neatly set, so perfect in it's intensity. While his daughter had looked upon the dungeon he had created as if it were some mess of happenstance, in truth it was the tools of a man who enjoyed inflicting pain. It was all made by him though, nothing dared purchased from the outside. He used what only his hands created...the gloved hands that were held by his side as he looked across at the girl who was standing there. Part of him almost rebelled but he set it aside like he would have cuffed a child.

There was a time to be a man. This was the time to be a monster.

He tilted his head, staring at her intently. If this toy had one iota of intelligence in her then she would have understood that the only person who could have been coming down the stairs was her Father. That this was all him. Him as he truly was. He stared with those cold cruel eyes and spoke directly.

"You want to live, I don't blame you. Nobody ever does down here. You though. You are special. Perhaps I will make an exception this time. So tell me...," he slowly smiled, the first true smile, so alien...horrible to look upon. "What would you do for that chance?"

 

[Sweet Nothings]

The evenly paced footsteps pierced through the darkness. It was obvious he had no intention of cloaking his location, nor did a blind eye affect his mobility. What felt like hours were, in all practicality, seconds. Rather than process a method of escape, the undeniable fear of who was slowly descending began to rank higher and high on her priority list. She was stuck in a loop attempting to blame someone, anyone, other than the obvious culprit. There wasn’t much time left to play stupid.

A dull click followed by the familiar sound of humming fluorescent bulbs welcomed the girl into what would serve as the forced newest chapter of her life. The light was blinding. Taking several moments to adjust, Sophie peered over towards the man with blurry vision. She could tell who it was long before her eyes had acclimated.

What a sight she was. All dressed up like a cute college freshman; a stylish jean jacket, plaid skirt with pleats and black knee socks really didn’t seem appropriate in such a room. Sophie had no time at all to take in the sights. In fact, the crumpled stranger covered in whip welts grew increasingly meaningless at the sight of him. Lips quivering, tears began to well in those innocent doe eyes. The intensity of his gaze bored holes in her very soul. It was hardly believable that this was truly her Father.

Then he spoke.

A tone so callous, so very cold. With her nerves already worn so very thin, the sight of a grin paired with his sickening query broke through any remaining control she maintained. Weeping openly, tears spilled from her lashes and creased along cheeks. A palm concealed the lower portion of her expression while choking back sobs. Who was this man? How could this happen? Shaking her head, Sophie managed to stumble back a few paces.

“D-Daddy, please,” her voice quivered, allowing a few more sobs before continuing. “You just, you just n-need some help…” Oh yeah, a blatantly abducted woman was on the floor and all he needed was a few visits to a therapist.

 

[Father Figure]

That smile never left his face which was perhaps the scariest part of seeing him standing there like that. He seemed to be so very untouched by the emotions going on around him. It was his internal dialogue that had him smiling, the imagination at work in the sick fashion that encouraged him to begin to show his daughter the man he truly was. He had never thought that he would be doing so, merely because he did not wish the legal entanglements involved. However, worrying about legality was far over at this particular moment. He did not response to her sobbing, did not show any kind of kindness concerning her tragic sorrow, and instead he merely raised an eyebrow at the hint for needing help. Well, surely he did. He probably needed it when he was a young child and had begun hurting animals, or when he had abused her own mother and she had fled to get away from those cruel hands, or perhaps when he had his first victim underneath him...

...But none of those things mattered at this particular moment. It was best to just concentrate on the situation at hand.

He began to move forward, the steps seeming to levitate him across the room with his long stride. He was at the entry and then suddenly he was standing before her. His eyes never left hers as his hand came up to grip her chin and that was perhaps the most telling moment between the two of them. The way his hand felt so different from the few caresses he had given her as her Father. No, this was horrid. The gloves broke the intimacy, broke the touch of one human to another. It placed him separate from her, distanced them completely, and thus the hands became that of a stranger. He slowly tightened his fingers as he tilted her head, forcing her gaze to his as she cried and then he did something truly sickening.

He tasted her tears.

Leaning in he ran his tongue along her skin, tracing it up her cheek to lick those tears from her face. He tasted the salt and practically hummed with absolute adoration. Oh this was nice, this was wonderful. He had ignored the woman on the floor, she was nearing her end regardless, but his hand tightened and he slowly tilted her head to look down at the woman who lay there, his own head turning as he whispered into his daughter's ear.

"Do you want Daddy to go to jail...for that? For her? Look at her, she's not even worth the dirt on her knees...she's nothing. You want your own Father to...be locked away, for that stupid little slut? Is that what you want?"

 

[Sweet Nothings]

Sophie was beginning to realize that there wasn’t going to be any chance of discussing what needed to happen. His approach struck fear through her heart and triggered another round of sobs. Her retreat was blind, thinking of nothing other than her desperate desire to keep the both of them separated. Much to her dismay, it took no more than a couple of shuffling steps to bump into a firm and unforgiving wall. Taking her eyes from her Father seemed an impossible feat. It certainly was him, just an entire personality that had never been on display before.

The simple action of reaching out to touch her earned a fretful whine, quieted only by the intensity of his expression. Her sniffles were pathetic as he took hold of her chin and tilted her head back. The action left her feeling exposed without actually revealing anything at all. He leaned in. Red flags and alarms went off in her mind, leaving her trembling as his wet-hot tongue ran over the curve of her baby doll cheek. The action made her skin crawl; goose bumps formed over her body and the hair at the back of her neck prickled to attention.

The girl’s heart sank. Her entire life this was the man that had raised her, fed her, kept her clothed. Their intimate proximity revealed the scent of his favorite cologne, something she’d previously only experienced with a hug or innocent peck at the cheek.

The slow realization began to dawn that there wouldn’t be any chance of returning back to everyday life. This was one of those secrets that had people looking over their shoulders at night and keeping acquaintances at bay. Guided to look at the bound and abducted stranger at the floor, Sophie had never been so conflicted. Of course she knew that abducting and torturing people led a person to prison, but she wasn’t about to try and reason with him.

His questions earned a second round of whines. Unprepared, she wished to simply sink through the floor and become invisible. Chewing at a lip, it took her several moments before finally managing a response. “I-I don’t know…” She was meek, like a skittish animal that had been dragged out of hiding. What the hell was someone supposed to say at time like this?

 

[Father Figure]

He made a small cluck with his tongue, his eyebrows raising a bit more as he spoke back to her. It was a taunt this time, a taunting mimicking inflection to his voice which turned it ugly. Which made it horrible. "You don't know." He said in a mocking fashion, a small mew of displeasure coming to his face as he heard the words and gave a slow gentle caress of her face. That was the most sickening part, in a moment where he might have hurt her. Where most people would have moved their fingers off of her and slapped the living shit out of her, he instead petted her like she were an animal. Objectifying her, making her less than a person, making her nothing beneath those gloved hands. His eyes didn't hold mockery though, they held nothing but emptiness as the fingers patting her cheek suddenly gripped her hair and he jerked her to turn her towards the dumb little bitch he had chained.

Oh this was just too delicious.

They both stared, there was nothing that could be done for it. They stared as he pulled his daughter over and he looked down at the woman who was captured there. What was her name? He couldn't even remember in all honesty. Had he even bothered to learn it? It hardly mattered at this juncture as he tugged his little girl over and forced her down next to the woman. His hand was brutal in her hair, unrelenting fingers of steel that made her bend her head towards her and he gave a small smirk as he whispered. While he spoke his other hand reached out to take the...fuckhole by her throat, clamping his hand round the soft flesh, uncaring at the noises she made in protest.

"I tell you what, little lady. Little daughter mine. If you do what I say to this woman, I'll let her live. Imagine that. Maybe I won't let her go, but I will let her live. Only if you do what I say, denying me though..." He made small little noise of regret and his hand began to tighten on the bitches throat, cutting off her air, completely taking away all hope from her. He was not looking at her, he did not care whether she lived or died. This was all about his daughter, all about how far she was willing to go to protect not only herself but this poor little piece of flesh laying before them. He studied her in that moment, searching for all the little cracks he could begin to exploit.

"Quick now, make a choice, she's weak...she'll be gone any moment," he teased.

 

[Sweet Nothings]

This was a man that Sophie had never dealt with before; a man that held all the cards. More so, he maintained complete indifference as to whether or not the deck was doused in lighter fluid and burned to ashes. She swallowed nervously as he repeated her last statement. Whatever she was supposed to say, it was obvious she hadn’t given the appropriate answer. Her knees buckled at the sensation of being caressed. The smooth leather slipped effortlessly over her skin, especially with tears serving as a lubricant. The intimacy was frightening and forced her to blink back more tears.

Just as her nerves began to steady his thick fingers plunged into her dark mane of hair and curled at the roots. His grip alone earned a pained whine, a single hand rising to grab at his wrist in an attempt to earn a release. Instead, her torso was forcefully pushed towards the ground. In an effort to keep up she bent her knees and lowered to the cool floor. The chilled cement seemed to pull any body heat she had to offer away. She was pushed uncomfortably close to the prisoner. Her soft palms supported the weight of her torso while settling upon hands and knees. Up close, it was obvious that whatever she’d been fed while down here had been minimal and her wounds were never treated. Her hair had been choppily cut to a shoulder length and matted in some areas.

“Wh-what?”

Seeing the stranger being choked put a dark cloud in the air. Was she going to die right in front of her? Sophie’s eyes grew wide with horror. She opened her lips to speak, but nothing could come out. There was a human slowly being taken from this world and her Father was the undertaker. Near death, it was horrifying to watch the life slowly drain out of someone’s eyes. The opportunity to dissuade any further attempts at murder earned an immediate reaction. “Yes, yes! I’ll do what you want! Please just stop it!” Her hands dared to reach for his arm and even applied the force of a weak push to permit the captive woman the opportunity of air.

Whoever this was, the young girl couldn’t bear to carry the guilt of not even trying to save a life. How would she sleep? Terribly, Sophie began to realize that her Father found a way…

 

[Father Figure]

As she pushed against his arm he nearly gave a laugh. It was so weak, so impossible to move him, he felt like slapping her just for the attempt. Yet he supposed it was worth the level of humor that it provided him and he let it go, his hand tightening just a bit more as the bitches eyes widened and bulged but then he eased up to let her take a ragged breath. He thought her name was Cindy, that came to him in that moment. Cindy, yeah, maybe that was it. He shrugged it mentally away however, because he was not staring at her. She was just a tool to mess with his daughter, just a means to an end as he watched the poor girl struggling to comprehend what he was doing and who he was. His eyes were dark and shadowed, no longer resembling the Father she had grown up with. The man who had been there for him. This man was something altogether different.

This man was insane. So he stifled his own laughter, giving a mock sigh he murmured. "What am I going to do with the two of you?" Then, then a small smirk touched his lips as he spoke. "Oh, I know...we'll play which one wants to live the most? Whoever speaks first gets to live!"

It was done in a mocking fashion, it was so very obvious to anyone who would have been a bystander that he had no intentions of letting anyone out of this room. Yet he knew the reaction it would have, he was too good at understanding people to not do so. His daughter would stare with uncertainty, and the broken hole on the floor would desperately try to get a few words out. Of course, he could not have her speaking first, that would ruin the game....and as his prisoner went to inhale and then start blurting out her begging words he denied her that option. His gloved hand clamped down on her mouth, covering it up as he tilted his head down towards her muffled pleas for mercy.

"Forgive me, what was that...I...I can't hear you." He frowned before looking back towards his girl. "Sophie, honey, would you look at that...she tried to talk before you. That was rude for a guest in our house, don't you think? And...and she was going to just toss you to the wolf. Look how quickly loyalty disappears when your life is on the line. She wanted you to...die." He hissed the last word before making a clucking noise of disapproval.

"Sophie, angel, nearby on the wall you'll find a nice big strap on cock to put on. I've seen the porn on your computer, don't act surprised, I know you understand them. Go put it on for me, hmm...you do want your new friend to live, so...you're going to have to fuck her. If you can make her cum, then...I'll let her go."

 

[Sweet Nothings]

Finally he released the woman. For a brief moment the tension in the room had managed to level out. Of course there was no level of comfort between the three of them, but at least there wasn’t any pressing threat of death or growing fear. There were no words, just the sounds of the crumpled prisoner gasping for air. A quivering sigh passed through her lips. Sophie felt like she’d aged a year over the course of the last twenty minutes. Avoiding eye contact was the most difficult decision to make; they were all less than a foot from each other.

Dumbfounded by the suggestion of speaking for one’s life, her eyes grew wide at the other woman’s blatant attempts at speech. A dark pang of anger bubbled deep in her stomach. This bitch lured her down here in the first place and somehow lacked any remorse for literally ruining someone else’s life. He protected her from immediately losing one of his sick and twisted games; she was strangely grateful for it. His words slithered about her thoughts and began to taint what few positive opinions might have been remaining towards the stranger. Who the hell was she, anyways? If that’s how the cards were being played, she wouldn’t be sharing any more hands.

Through all of this her expression morphed to display her thought processes. Those delicate eyebrows creased with anger, her tears slowly began to fade. If there was one thing she’d inherited from her Father it was her ability to cut people from her list of concerns. How stoic she became; it showed in her posture as she distanced herself by leaning away.

At the suggestion of fucking the woman to keep her alive, her eyes simply trailed off to the wall. It didn’t take her long to find the strap on that he’d mentioned and with a cool silence she stood and walked towards the tool. Despite the anger it was still rather embarrassing to even hold a dildo in her hand, let alone wear one in front of her Father. Sophie stepped out of her shoes and took a few moments to gingerly lean down and slide the straps up her legs. Her skirt draped over the shaft and left the tip revealed as she awkwardly returned back to the prisoner.

Sophie wasn’t fond of being betrayed. If he didn’t bother to interrupt, she was quick to boldly sit on the woman’s abdomen. The new shaft between her legs pressed at the woman’s navel as a constant reminder of some new power that her father had gifted her with. It took seconds for her to lean over the stranger in a menacing fashion, palms next to each of her shoulders with her lengthy tresses dangling at either side of the woman’s cheeks. Without warning, Sophie spit right on her face.

“You fucking whore!” A palm rose and swiped ruthlessly at her cheek. “I came to help you, and you want to fucking try to get out of here before me!?” The hand that slapped made a ruthless grab for one of her breasts. She pinched roughly at a nipple while grinding her palm against the soft globe of flesh, massaging in a manner meant to please Sophie more than the prisoner. She leaned down to the woman’s collar bone and nibbled playfully at the nape of her neck.

“Well you know what? I’m gonna make you cum. You’re going to want more, you slut. But you know what? No matter how wet you get, no matter how well you listen, I’ll make sure my Daddy never lets you out of here.”

 

[Father Figure]

His eyes literally widened as he saw his daughter's reaction. For the first time the man seemed surprised, truly surprised, and it shocked him to the core. Oh he had thought to himself that he would push this, perhaps test her, make her come to understand that she would be doing the right thing by becoming his fucktoy. That he could have broken her psyche, pushed her to grasp who and what she should be for him. He had in fact been thinking that he would just take his time and try to tear down his daughters walls and rebuild them again. Then she slapped the woman, slapped and cursed, and he swore he saw something inside of her that resembled him. As if he were looking in the mirror and saw his daughter's face staring back at him. What was it about that face that made him think that it was him? It was the eyes, that was it. Those eyes looked nothing like her mother's and everything like his. He licked his dry lips slowly, feeling a measure of trepidation and uncertainty.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He straightened and reached out to pat his girl's back, the first sign of approval he had given her in years in all honesty. He was not a man who happened to be physical with his affections. Was not a man who gave of himself easily. He was a sociopath, that was a given, but he was not a cruel man without reason. He had never had reason to be cruel to his young daughter, nor had he overly had reason to be kind, now though he shoulder her love as his hand patted her back and then touched her shoulder and gave a small squeeze. His body moved away, not even bothering to care about the young slut he left sitting on the floor. Oh, she was secondary and useless at this point, from this day forward everything was about his little girl and the woman she could become. His voice held a measure of his pride as he spoke.

"Go on, go on. Show her Sophie, make her regret trying to hurt you. Make her fucking pay..." His voice trailed off as he watched his angel's downfall, taking a slow moment to sigh as if this was a religious experience for him. His stomach would have twisted had he morality, lacking one though he did the next best thing.

He began to set up the camera. He moved around as his angel got to work, and as she worked he sat the laptop up and the lights. He set the microphone and adjust it all before tapping on the keyboard to bring up his files and his video capturing. He set it all to take in everything, to store every little motion of the next several hours of their work. For they would have several hours with this victim before it was time to discuss their future. Several hours of utter destruction of a lower lifeform, the only purpose that of taking out their combined hatred and sick desires. He felt his cock throb, for once not because of the pain he was inflicting but because he looked at his daughter and wanted her as a woman. True desire. He never would have experienced it without her.

"Make her cum, baby. Make that cunt cum for you."