by James Crow
Hit Daddy like you really mean it, booboos.
I did. I thrashed him hard. Wrapped that belt around my wrist and lashed him until he was sweating and shaking and gasping for breath.
His cock popped from the side of my knickers. Hard as fucking steel, the end full and glistening purple.
I looked at it and then looked at him, trembling there on the cross, beads of sweat on his brow, his breaths so ragged.
Has Daddy Dick been naughty? I asked.
He nodded between breaths and then whispered, Do it, booboos.
I did. He braced himself and I thrashed Daddy Dick a good one. The belt curled around his cock and he screamed. I hit him again and caught his stomach. Hit him again and caught his thighs. Then his cock, once more, a whip-crack right on the end of it.
His screeching hurt my ears. I stopped thrashing then, because the fucker was coming. Coming as he was still fucking screeching, pumping spunk onto the floor.
When I’d freed him up and helped him to the sofa in the corner of the attic, he held me tight and sobbed. Told me I was the love of his life, and that he’d do anything for me. I told him that was easy, I wanted the shotgun. I sucked his sore cock back to hardness and fucked him on the sofa as I told him how the shotgun was supposed to work.
He said it was fascinating, squeezing my tits as I slid up and down. Told me he already had some ideas to make it a fun time. I like it, he said, a true work of art.
‘Did you do it?’ Drew asked, sticking me a few quick ones.
‘Fuck that’s nice,’ I said. I noticed the air had a green tinge, and my cunt felt so strong, stretched around his solid dick.
‘Did you do the fucking shotgun, babe?’
I told him that Tinley made a date. A fortnight from then and I’d be riding shotgun. In the meantime, booboos, I will put my mind to work, come up with something really special for you.
I couldn’t believe we were actually going to do it. I wasn’t looking forward to the two-week wait. However, my whoring mother gave me the opportunity for some experimental alone time.
It was early on a Saturday morning. I was at the table eating toast when her and Uncle Kev came downstairs. She was wearing a denim mini skirt and a cream top that showed off a black bra. She had a red throw around her shoulders, and on her feet were the white stilettoes she always wore. Her legs were as saggy as her face. She looked ridiculous. Uncle Kev was in his grey suit and tie. He looked pretty good.
She told me the same story she’d been telling me my whole life. I’ve won a gig in the city. We won’t be back ’til late Sunday. Keep your fucking nose clean or I’ll kill you.
I’d tried not to show the excitement in my smile. At one time, she’d blabber on about what songs she was going to sing at the gig, but not these days. She knew I wouldn’t question her. She also knew I loved her not being there. I think she also suspected that I knew what she really did. Uncle Kev told me one night when he was Just Kev and drunk. He was twisting the whisky bottle up my ass at the time.
You’re a fucking prize whore, just like your skank mother. Oh, she sings all right. She sings as they take her every which way. She sings all the way to the fucking bank. You don’t have to be good-looking when your ass is always hungry and you don’t mind gargling piss.
I went shopping as soon as they’d fucked off. Filled my basket in the fruit and veg section. Returned home with my goodies and locked the doors tight. I’d chopped the White Widow and made six decent smokes. Sat at the table with neat vodka and smoked that first joint while contemplating my shopping and how the fuck I was going to do it. Half an hour later and I had a plan.
I’d started with a cucumber. Stripped naked and kneeled up on the kitchen table and watched passers-by through the window as I fucked myself nice and slow. Rubbing at my clit with the cucumber sunk deep. When I came, it was sweet and dreamy and really fucking nice, and I knew then that this was going to work. I was going to fuck a marrow.
I’d chosen the longest and hardest of the marrows at the supermarket. Long, because I wanted to be able to hold one end in place with my feet. And hard, because I wanted to carve the other end into the shape of a fist and I didn’t want it going all mushy before I’d even got it up there.
I used my fist as a guide and chipped away at the marrow until I had what could pass for a few inches of arm and a fist on the end of it. The carrot I chose was at least ten inches long and as fat as Just Kev’s cock. I worked a groove into the marrow fist that fit the carrot perfectly, then I wrapped both marrow and carrot in film-wrap.
I’d placed my duvet on the kitchen table to give my knees a break and the base of the marrow some stability once it was between my feet. After smoking another joint and knocking back more vodka, I’d gotten into position, on my knees and facing the window, the rounded base of the marrow clenched between my feet, the carved fist of it resting against my soaking cunt. I played with my clit as I rocked against it, each push sent tingles dancing through me. My cunt was eager for it. I pretended Mr Tinley was behind me, that it was his fist pushing there. I told him to do it. Told him to push. Told him I could fucking take it.
Do it for booboos, I said and then gritted my teeth as my cunt stretched around that carved fist. Gritted my teeth and focused through the window on the young girl walking down the street as the thing sucked into me with a painful snap. I cried out. Bit my fucking tongue as my cunt pulsed with red-hot pain. I glanced under me at the duvet, expecting to see blood. But there was none. It was in and it was staying.
‘Fuck that’s hot,’ Drew said, pulling his cock from me and slapping my clit with it.
I told him to stop it, that I would come too soon. Told him to put it back in me. So he did, and I told him about the carrot. I hadn’t thought about needing much lubrication. I mean, the marrow went in just fine because I was messy from the cucumber, but my asshole was closed tight by the marrow inside my cunt. I needed some lube, but there was no way I could get down from the table with the marrow up there. And no way I was taking it out and putting it back in again.
I used my spit and I used juices from my cunt and I worked away at my asshole until I thought I might just manage it with a shove. But it hurt. It burned like a bastard bitch. My choice in carrot thickness was probably too ambitious. I kept going anyway, thought past the burn and rocked against the marrow, gripping that carrot hard and pushing with more intent each time. Until that too sucked inside me and again I cried out it hurt so much. I was sweating. And I was stretched so bad, kneeling there on that table, and it really did fucking hurt, but it was worth it, so worth it when I gave a little jiggle and the carrot slotted into the groove. I’d done it. Mr Tinley was going to be proud, I knew that much.
I held that carrot right in there with the palm of my hand and I rocked back and forth on the marrow. I closed my eyes to it and focused inside my cunt where the wall was forced around the groove in the marrow. The waves of pleasure were intense. It made me pant. Made me go faster. And when I came, I lost it. Completely fucking lost it. To stop myself falling off the table, I had to let go of the carrot. It went shooting from my ass. And when I bucked forward the marrow snapped right out of my cunt. I’d fallen on my front, writing in the most painful orgasm ever.
‘Jesus,’ Drew said and slapped my tits. His black eyes drilled through mine and he fucked me hard and fast. My cunt melted into a golden puddle as the bedrails shook. And as he came, so did I. It was fucking glorious.
Drew lit a cig and placed it to my lips. We shared the cig, and the rest of the mushroom bits, and the warm beer. When it came to the last wrap of coke, Drew tapped half of it over the cuts that had opened up on my belly. He dipped three wet fingers in the other half then pushed ‘Two in the pink, one in the stink, babe.’ And he’d fucking laughed. And so had I. And he’d laughed some more when he asked how my cunt felt, if the coke was kicking in good. I told him my cunt felt big and twinkling, like Santa’s fucking grotto.
I also told him I was losing the feeling in
my arms, them being tied to the rail behind me for so long. He leaned over and licked at my armpit, then the other one. It was nice, sort of tingly and tickly at the same time. My nipples went hard. I told him not to worry, my arms were just fine now. So he lay by my side and played with my cunt lips.
I remembered then, what I’d done with that marrow – and the carrot – I’d made a stew for Mother and Uncle Kev, added a few more carrots and some decent gobs of spit. They ate the lot. Mother said that I’d done something good for once in my life.
Drew laughed so much he fell off the bed, then he wanted to know about that pervy teacher.
That pervy teacher never ceased to amaze me – if amaze is the right word. He had a few surprises up his sleeve. Or should I say, up his ass. And so did I. I was excited.
He’d picked me up at the park early on the Sunday morning. I was wearing the short grey school skirt he’d requested I wear. It was the same one I’d lifted for him ten years previous when I’d given him my magic marker message. I had my Puffa coat wrapped around me, not just because it was a cold day, but because I had nothing on underneath – as requested.
I could feel the tension coming from Mr Tinley as I slipped into the passenger seat and closed the door.
Good morning, sir.
His smile was delicious. Good morning, booboos. Are you…? he nodded at my chest.
Yes, sir. I unzipped my coat and showed him my tits.
Good girl. And…? he nodded to my skirt.
Yes, sir. I lifted my skirt and shifted to one side, showed him my hairy bush. No knickers, as requested, sir.
Excellent. And…? His eyebrows went up.
It was hard to keep a straight face. I’m sorry, sir, but I have not got a carrot up my bum.
The poor man’s face dropped and he went deathly pale. I’d never refused him, always did as I was told.
But Danielle, why ever not? This has… this has ruined everything.
He was gripping the steering wheel, brow creased. I really had ruined his day. I didn’t like seeing him like that, so I put him out of his misery straight away.
Mr Tinley, sir. He looked at me with sad eyes. You requested I arrive with a carrot up my bum.
Yes, I bloody did.
Well, I do not have just a carrot up my bum.
His eyes narrowed. Meaning?
Meaning, I decided to surprise you. I have more than one up there.
You do? And the gleaming eyes were back.
I do, sir. I have five carrots up my bum. And then I gave him the detail he adored hearing. Each was chosen for its equal thickness and length. The thickness being one inch and the length between five and six inches, sir.
And you have them all up there?
Yes, sir.
He took my hand and kissed it. Told me he loved me. Told me he was proud, that I was a genius.
Zip up your coat, booboos, he said, you’re going to give Daddy Dick the thrill of his life.
I couldn’t see what having carrots up my ass and being topless had to do with doing the shotgun. I guessed it was a warmup. And God, I was looking forward to getting back to his place and getting warm. It was freezing outside. But we didn’t go straight back to his. He drove around to the park’s side entrance and killed the engine.
Listen carefully, he said. He checked that I had my phone and that we both had a signal. He felt up my skirt and pushed a finger in my cunt, told me with a grin, I can feel those carrots.
Then he’d pointed out a man on the bench in the park. He was all wrapped up and wore a bobble hat. He was smoking a cig. When Mr Tinley explained what he wanted me to do, I thought it was the craziest thing I’d ever heard. But fuck how my cunt melted.
This is magnificent, he said, and I had to agree. I had those nervous shakes that are almost a thrill on their own. I’m ready for it, sir.
Mr Tinley said he would stand by the park gate, to keep watch. He took hold of my shoulders and kissed me, told me that he loved me. Told me he was wearing my sweet cotton panties, and that he had a carrot up his ass too, and that when this was done, there was a whole lot of fun waiting for me at home.
My smile was so wide.
He rang my phone and I set off walking towards the bench, chatting merrily to a pretend friend, pausing for effect and throwing in the occasional giggle as he whispered sweet nothings in my ear.
‘Babe,’ Drew said, ‘I don’t think your cunt can get any fucking wetter. Can we skip the pervy teach and get you fucking fisted?’
I was back in the room and my heart almost stopped. Mr Tinley was standing at the bottom of the bed, naked apart from my blue knickers. He looked angry. Jealous. Tell him he’s a cunt, he said to me.
‘You’re a cunt,’ I said to Drew.
Tell him he needs to shut up and do as he’s fucking told.
‘You need to shut up and do as you’re fucking told.’
Tell him four fingers, that’s all for now, until you’re finished your story.
‘Stick me four fingers,’ I said, ‘and be fucking patient.’
‘Sure, babe.’ Drew shoved four fingers in and twisted them around. Fuck it was nice. So nice. I smiled thanks to Mr Tinley. He gave me a nod and shoved his hand down my blue knickers.
Pace back and forth in front of the bench, came Mr Tinley’s voice in my ear. Make sure he gets a good look at you.
Yeah, yeah, I said, and paced back and forth in front of the man in the bobble hat.
He’s eyeing your legs. He likes you.
Of course, I said with a laugh.
It’s time to sit down, booboos, he said.
And that was the tricky bit. Not only did I have to lift my skirt enough so that my bare ass was on the bench, but I had to position my asshole over a gap in the planks. I looked at the man as I took my seat, said good morning, held eye contact so he wouldn’t see me lifting my skirt clear.
The seat was biting cold on my ass. The flourish of goosebumps made me shudder and I almost lost a carrot. I clenched tight, positioned my asshole over what I hoped was a gap in the planks.
Daddy Dick is fucking hard, Mr Tinley said in my ear.
Yeah? That is good news, I said.
Now, do it now, Mr Tinley said, push one out.
I’d laughed down the phone, then laughed again to cover any unfortunate noises as I strained to push one out. I got a bit panicky when they didn’t budge. Yes, yes, of course, I said down the phone.
Do it, booboos, he said, poopoo for Daddy Dick.
I laughed so hard at that, felt one of the carrots move… then it shot out in a rush. I laughed louder when the other four carrots followed suit, landing with a flurry of little thumps on the concrete. I laughed like a fucking hyena because I’d farted as well.
I wasn’t sure if the man in the bobble hat next to me had heard anything, but I really wanted to get out of there. I made to get up but the voice on the phone told me to wait and I saw why.
Good boy, Mr Darcy, you found it, Mr Bobble said as a little black terrier came dancing back to him with a tennis ball in its mouth. The dog dropped it into Mr Bobble’s hand and Mr Bobble swung his arm back and lobbed it onto the field. But Mr Darcy didn’t go scampering after it. Mr Darcy was staring at something under the bench.
My heart was in my mouth as the dog darted under. And I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when Mr Darcy came back with a shit-stained carrot between his teeth.
I didn’t wait for further instruction. I was up and away, walking as fast as I could back to Mr Tinley.
I thought I’d be in trouble, but Mr Tinley had had a giggle fit, and that set me off, and we’d laughed all the way home. He said it was a shame I didn’t get to flash my tits at Mr Bobble, but to see those carrots hitting the floor and the dog picking one up, was priceless.
‘Bored now,’ Drew said.
It wasn’t a shock to see Mr Tinley with his arm up Drew’s ass. He was swishing it about in there. And they were both smiling at me. And no sign of any bees or toxic shrooms. ‘A good
trip,’ I said.
We had mugs of hot chocolate to warm us up, then Mr Tinley led me to the bedroom. He lay back on the bed, positioned me on my knees between his legs and told me to suck him hard, which I did.
Then he showed me his new discovery. He took my fingers and placed them under his balls, right at the back, near to his asshole, and he told me to press and asked what I could feel. I pressed there and it felt hard. It’s like a continuation of your cock, I said.
Daddy Dick, he reminded, then told me he believed it carried on further inside, like one really long cock. After all, it had to be anchored to something, didn’t it? I’ve had a finger in, he said, and I can feel a little bit of it, but that’s as much as I can manage. I want you to have a feel, booboos.
He lifted his knees and I spat on his hole, pushed a finger in. Yes, I can feel it.
Good, he said, get your hand in there, make Daddy Dick come for you.
I touched myself first, gave my clit a rub, because his words had flooded me with heat.
You want me to fist you, sir?
Yes, Miss Walker. Make it so.
I used a lot of spit and cunt juice. Two fingers at first, pushing them in with a twist as he moaned for me. Three fingers, scissoring and twisting and stretching his hole.
He cussed a lot. Hissed a lot. Told me his ass was on fire. Told me to keep fucking going.
Four fingers made him grunt. When I twisted into him and just kept on pushing against the resistance, he said I was killing him, said it hurt so fucking bad. Just fucking do it!
With one hand on his stomach, I gave a final shove and his asshole clamped around my wrist. His face was screwed up and he was thumping a fist off the bed. I could feel that continuation of his cock inside, so I stroked it – well, as best as I could with my hand gripped so tight by his ass.
Oh fucking hell, he said and his cock was jerking in no time, flicking spunk at me. I caught some in my mouth, sucked him dry.
He’d cried for fucking mercy when I pulled my hand out, then shed real tears when he saw the blood. My hand was covered in it. I think I must have caught him with a nail.
‘What about the shotgun?’ Drew said.
