DARE

by James Crow

  They had razorblades, Tinley and Mort, and they were swiping at my flesh, each cut a vicious sting that went from heart-stopping agony to joyful bliss in a blink and bees were streaming from the cuts. Mort and Tinley both wore wigs of crawling bees. Doc Mort’s glasses were covered in them. I laughed at the same time as I cried. And they grinned big toothy cartoon grins as they sliced me to beautiful shreds, my blood erupting like sprays of rose petals.

  BUZZING! Mr Tinley cried and flung open his tartan dressing gown. He shrugged it to the floor and put his hands on his hips.

  What I saw took my breath. He was wearing my pale blue knickers, tight across his bulging crotch, his black wiry pubes sticking over the top.

  He walked to me slowly and one of his balls popped out the side. I wanted to bite it, and was in the perfection position to do just that, kneeling before him as he stepped right up to my face.

  He told me to touch my nose to him and to smell him. I touched my nose to the firmness of my own blue knickers and breathed him in. Breathed us both in. I told him I wanted his cock. He grabbed a fist of my hair and told me that wasn’t the game. Kiss me there, he said, ever so gently, touch your lips to me.

  I did as I was told, kissed my lips to my own cock-filled knickers and I felt Mr Tinley tense up.

  Keep kissing little kisses, he said, so I did, tiny little movements of my lips and I felt his cock growing hard. I kept on kissing that cotton until his cock poked out the side. And I couldn’t help myself. Couldn’t help myself at all. I sucked the end into my mouth. Mr Tinley’s leg trembled. He gripped my hair and pushed his cock down my throat.

  I’d gagged, coughed up spit, but he kept on fucking my throat, withdrawing at the last moment to come all over my tits. There was a lot of cum.

  He told me to take my bra off and to follow him outside. I watched his ass in my knickers as he went through the French doors, fascinated by the man.

  He handed me the cane and got down on his back on the rain-soaked patio and told me to cane him. Told me he wanted it hard.

  I didn’t really know where to start, suggested he turn over so I could get his ass good, but he said no.

  I remember nearly coming at his next words.

  Daddy Dick has been naughty, he said, pointing to his semi-hard cock still poking from my knickers, Daddy Dick needs discipline.

  So I whacked his dick. Over and over I whacked his dick and he screamed. And I was amazed as the fucker grew hard again.

  I wanted to sit on it, asked him if I could. He told me no, not until his booboos had been disciplined too.

  Booboos, sir?

  You, my darling girl, he said. Admonish Daddy Dick, my sweet booboos.

  I’d wondered if he’d gone mad. Fucking booboos? I tapped the tip of the cane on the end of his stiff cock and told him to open his legs wide but he shook his head no.

  I looked at him puzzled.

  He looked at me pleadingly.

  Then the penny dropped. In for a fucking penny.

  Daddy Dick has been naughty, I told him in my best little-girl voice, and booboos is going to hurt him. Now, open your fucking legs.

  He let out a great breath and his legs slid apart.

  Wider!

  He slid them wide as they would go, just as Dolly came padding through the French doors. She parked her ass by his head and stared at his Daddy Dick.

  I’m going to hit you one last time, Daddy, I said, really fucking hard.

  He nodded frantically. Yes, yes.

  Daddy Dick won’t know what hit him.

  Yes, yes. Good girl.

  I positioned myself with my back to him, one foot on the ground either side of his hips. I didn’t give him any warning, other than him seeing the cane rise high above my head. I brought that fucker down with all the strength I had. Down hard on his balls, one of which was still poking from my knickers.

  He screamed so loud and I had to jump clear as he rolled away clutching his package.

  It took him a while to recover, curled up on the wet lawn, breathing hard. I sat on the damp steps and Dolly sat by my side. I stroked her as we watched and waited for what might happen next. I thought he might be pissed at me, that I wasn’t meant to hit his balls.

  It made my clit fizz when eventually he let go of his balls and raised his head and I saw the dark gleam in his eyes and the way his jaw hung open. Here we go, I told Dolly.

  He got to his feet, all grubby and wet and my knickers were filthy. He marched straight up the steps past me and swiped up the cane from the floor.

  Sweet booboos, he said, there is only one rule, he whacked the cane off his leg, you are allowed to run.

  ‘RUUUUUUN!’ came the booming voice of Mr Boots.

  He was glaring down at me from behind the kneeling figures of Doc Mort and Mr Tinley.

  Mr Tinley had done slicing up my belly and was now slicing the razorblade across my thighs.

  Doc Mort – his glasses still swarming with bees – held a toxic green mushroom in his fist. It was thick with a closed-cap head and it looked like a dildo. He pushed it against my cunt.

  Mr Boots screamed at me again to run, his hands grabbing at me until he pushed Tinley and Mort out of the way and pulled me to my feet. Feet that were instantly splattered with blood from my slashed belly.

  I told him it was okay. Told him I was just tripping. A good trip. Mr Boots laughed an incredulous laugh and he kissed me. Told me he always wanted to just kiss me. Then we ran. Tinley scampered after us, swishing the razorblade. So did Doc Mort, brandishing the mushroom dildo.

  The pickup truck was a no go. Mushrooms as tall as streetlamps curled out from the windows. Mushrooms had sprouted up all over the wasteland, too, and little black tornadoes of bees were lifting from every single one of them.

  I told Mr Boots that I didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to know who was in the other barn. I was worried for Drew, of course. Drew had vanished and so had Colin. I feared the worst and just couldn’t face it.

  ‘We run and we run now,’ said Mr Boots.

  I glanced over my shoulder, just as Tinley and Doc Mort were bursting through the gap. I blinked and they froze mid-stride. In my mind, I told them what to do.

  Mr Tinley shoved his pants down, dropped to all-fours, wiggled his bare ass. Doc Mort stuck him with the toxic mushroom. Mr Tinley cried out for his booboos as Doc Mort spanked him.

  ‘All under control,’ I told Mr Boots.

  Mr Boots was staring at my belly. What was left of it. ‘That’s a lot of blood,’ he said.

  I put my hand to it and a gush of warm blood spilled out, splashing to the puddle already on the ground.

  ‘I’m still not going,’ I told him.

  But he grabbed my hand tight and wouldn’t let go. Didn’t say another word, just dragged me into the field of luminous shrooms.

  I could hear Doc Mort grunting with every smack of hand on flesh.

  Could hear Mr Tinley’s joyous moans.

  I could hear the bees, too. Millions of them taking to the air.

  But above all, I could hear my fear. Smell it, too. Fear sounded like grating teeth and it smelled like freshly laid dog shit. Yet I couldn’t take my stare away from that distant barn.

  I dragged my feet. I resisted. Until Mr Boots said he’d do a deal.

  ‘What deal?’

  He took hold of my chin and kissed me. ‘Come with me freely, and swiftly, because your life depends on it, do that, and when we get safely inside… I’ll walk on you.’

  My heart bloomed for him. ‘In your boots?’

  ‘Yes, in my boots.’

  ‘Naked?’

  He rolled his pretty eyes. ‘Of course.’

  And so I went swiftly, dancing over the ever-growing mushrooms, dodging bees and enjoying the feeling of my cunt getting wetter by the second, never letting go of Mr Boot’s hand.

  Daddy Dick, please let me go. I’d resorted to begging because I was scared. I didn’t really do scared. I mean, I’d been scared once when I had to rea
d aloud in class and I cried when I couldn’t get the words out. And I always get scared when I have my period. Scared of the stinking horrible blood. Scared of going to the shop and getting my words mixed up. But not proper scared. Not like I was right then.

  Be still, sweet booboos, this will hurt so much you will come for me.

  He’d chased me, slipping and sliding around the wet garden. He caught my ass a good whack a few times. Caught my thighs more. Caught my fucking ribs as well and it fucking hurt. But he’d caught me good when I slipped and went arse over tit, almost landing on Dolly as she bounded about, joining in the fun. He pinned me down with his foot on my stomach and I’d begged him Not yet!

  Begged him to put his Doc Martens on first.

  He looked at me like he didn’t trust me. I promised him I wouldn’t move a muscle, told him, please do it with your boots on, Daddy.

  He stood over me, pointed the cane at me and told me to take it. Told me to stick the handle up myself like a good booboos. So I took it from him, stuck the hooked handle in my cunt and held onto the shaft of the cane with both hands while he disappeared into the house.

  I’d asked for this. Really asked for it. I was scared.

  He was only gone a minute, and he looked so fucking hot, all grubby in my filthy knickers and his black Doc Martens. He swiped the cane from my cunt. He was panting when he told me to spread my legs wide. They slid open easily on the damp grass. I was shaking now, from the cold, from the fear of what he was going to do.

  This will hurt, he reminded me as he stood between my legs. Open your pretty cunt for me, booboos.

  Yes, Daddy. Oh, yes.

  I held my cunt open, the cool air on my throbbing hot clit a wonder. I was buzzing like fucking crazy.

  I watched with a pounding heart as he carefully touched the tip of the cane to my clit and ever so gently gave it a nudge. I moaned for him and he did it again. And again as he lined up the shot, steadying himself, closing one eye like he was lining up for a hole in one. Which in a way he fucking was. I hoped he didn’t hit my shaking fingers. I hoped he got it right.

  He gave little pushes and prods with the tip of the cane and those turned into the lightest of taps and my moans were coming hard now.

  A sharper tap and I hissed for him.

  Another tap and I told Daddy I loved him.

  He rested the flat of the cane against my stinging clit, I love my booboos, he said and my leg started trembling as his arm tensed up, his gleaming eyes focused on the target.

  I felt the start of the orgasm then. Boiling up from somewhere below, pushing to the surface like seething hot needles. I felt my clit bloom for him.

  His arm went back and the world stood still. Apart from Dolly. I saw her run inside just as Daddy’s arm came thrashing down, parting the air like a magic wand.

  I heard the crack, thought it was me that had broken.

  Until I saw half of the cane spinning through the air.

  Then the pain hit me and I screamed forever.

  The orgasm was immense and for the first time in my life I did what Cory Clarkson said she knew I was capable of. I squirted like a geyser all over Daddy Dick’s boots. His cock was hard in no time. He pressed the patterned sole of his Doc Marten to my cunt and I came again.

  And then he fucked me. Got down on his knees and fucked me until I cried. It was so beautiful. And Mr Tinley cried too, my lovely Daddy Dick.

  ‘We made it,’ I said as Mr Boots closed the barn doors and bees thudded against them.

  ‘Just,’ he said and stripped off his overall.

  I didn’t need telling to get down. Mr Boots stood on my stomach in just his boots and I took all his weight. He stamped on my tits and made them all filthy. I told him to kick my cunt and opened my legs for him.

  ‘Baby?’

  Someone was tapping my face.

  ‘Baby?’

  I opened my eyes to a luminous glow. I was warm, on the bed in the loft. My wrists were tied to the metal bars at the head of the bed.

  ‘You okay, babe?’

  Drew was playing with my cunt, fingering me softly. I sobbed when I saw him. I thought I’d lost him.

  ‘You were cutting yourself,’ he said, ‘bad trip. Best to tie you up.’

  My stomach was red with blood. A few dozen cuts sang to me.

  I found my voice. ‘Good trip,’ I said.

  Mr Boots had gone. And there was no sign of Mr Tinley or Doctor Mort. Or any bees or toxic mushrooms. But there was someone missing. ‘Where’s Colin?’

  ‘Taken care of, babe,’ Drew said, pushing his fingers into me.

  That was good. I didn’t really like Colin.

  ‘What you wanna do next, babe?’

  A lovely grin split my face. I told Drew all about the shotgun.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘You serious?’ Drew pulled his fingers from my cunt and looked at me like I was crazy, but I could see the devil in his eyes. He wanted to do it.

  ‘You’re in a bit of a fucking state, babe,’ he told me, staring at my blood-covered stomach.

  Yeah, so I had a few cuts and I was grubby all over and it felt like I’d been run over by a truck, but what the fuck? ‘You’re going soft,’ I said, ‘you’re not the tough guy you were.’

  ‘Oh, babe,’ he said and I rolled my eyes at him.

  It was only then I noticed the sun was shining outside. Beams of golden sunlight crisscrossed the loft space and lit up the hay-covered floor like treasure.

  ‘I’m not high,’ I said, ‘I feel like shit.’

  ‘And you want my fist up your cunt and my dick up your ass?’ Drew laughed.

  He had a point, but I didn’t like him laughing at me. I told him I could do this, that I’d already had some practice. That got his attention. He asked me to tell. I told him I needed some shit first. Needed shit because of the stretch. He asked me what shit I used when I’d practiced. I told him I’d used vodka and a gram of White Widow, the perfect recipe for loosening your holes.

  ‘Two wraps, two beers, and a handful of shroom bits,’ Drew told me when I asked what we had left.

  I’d sighed then. And I’d lain back, tugged at the ropes securing my wrists to the bedrail above my head and smiled up at the slats of sunshine coming through the roof, knowing that this was going to be the best trip yet. My practice run at home hadn’t gone exactly to plan. And Mr Tinley’s efforts were sweet but he did tend to get a bit carried away with his own needs instead of his darling booboos’ needs. But tied to this old bed in this peaceful place of sunshine with two wraps, two beers, a handful of shroom bits and the man of my dreams, I just knew it was going to succeed.

  Drew wasn’t convinced but said he’d give it a try. I thanked him for his enthusiasm and told him again that he wasn’t the tough guy I first met.

  ‘Hit me high and fuck me deep.’ I hitched my knees up and opened for him.

  He took off his shirt and jeans and got between my legs on the bed wearing just his boots. He fisted his right hand and tensed it until the veins popped up, thick veins that ran in twisting lines like faraway rivers over his tattooed arm. ‘It’s big,’ he said, and he wasn’t fucking wrong. My cunt was panting for him and I told him so. Told him I wanted his cock first to loosen me up.

  He slapped his cock off my clit and I was nearly coming then. He pushed some shroom bits in my mouth and tipped some warm beer in after. I tried not to taste them going down. He emptied a wrap on my cunt and slapped his dick off my clit again. I told him to suck it off my clit, that I could already feel it burning me.

  His lips felt fiery hot as they clamped in place. He sucked hard and I shuddered through. Shuddered again when he lifted his head and gave me a white-powdered smile. He climbed up over me and kissed my lips so softly. I kissed him back, licking up the traces of coke, sucking hard on his tongue, biting at his lip as his cock slid into me.

  He fucked me slow, nice and deep, pressing hard against me, and I saw the shape of his cock pushing at the cuts on my stomach.


  ‘When I fuck you, those cuts will bleed,’ Drew said.

  I agreed, they probably would. I told him it would be a caesarean orgasm.

  He laughed, said that was fucking horny, then he told me, that when he shot-gunned me, the whole lot could split open, as well as everything else. ‘Because I’m so big and you’re so fucking tight, babe.’

  I told him not to worry, that I knew how to work the shit now. Knew it would be the best trip. Knew we’d do that dirty fucking shotgun and we’d do it fucking well. Knew that I’d never felt freer than I did right then. I was his. He was mine. And he was going to break me. Break me so bad that when he was done, he’d be able to stick his pretty fucking head up there.

  He slammed his dick into me with a grunt. It made me fucking squeal.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘tell me how you fucking practiced this, you dirty fucking bitch.’

  No babe this time. His eyes were gleaming. I asked him to choke me and he went to but stopped.

  ‘You can’t tell me anything if I’m fucking choking you.’

  ‘Point,’ I said. ‘Slap me then.’

  He grabbed hold of my face in his big hand, squeezed at my jaw, then ran his nails down my neck and over my tits before slapping them hard. Fuck how I seethed for him. The old Drew was back.

  ‘Tell me how you practiced,’ he said and pushed his cock in nice and slow. I clenched my cunt around him and I told him.

  We’d just finished a belting session in Mr Tinley’s attic. He had a huge wooden cross in there that he liked being tied to. At his request, I’d worn the knickers with a flower pattern that he’d bought for me. Worn them all morning before we met up by the park and I slipped into his Mini. This was just Christmas gone. He’d ditched the old Volvo years ago.

  I’d hooked him up to the cross, face-first. He’d worn those flowery knickers and I’d belted his ass until my arm ached. But that was just the half of it. I unhooked him and turned him round. His cock was hard in my knickers. I made sure it rubbed against my tummy as I hooked him back up.