Phoenix Rising

by Anais Ninja

  “Annie,” my father whispered. “Don’t cry, kitten.” He kissed me and brushed my tears away with the sleeve of his bathrobe.

  “Sorry, Daddy.”

  “What’s to be sorry about?” he said, kissing me again. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

  “It’s okay, Daddy. You didn’t know.”

  “I know, but I’m supposed to protect you from these things.” He got up from the couch and grabbed a box of tissues from Mia’s desk, returning to the couch and handing it to me, wrapping his arm around me while I dried my eyes. I’d finished my wine but I needed something to drink, so I reached for his scotch, taking a big gulp.

  “Would you like a drink?” my father asked.

  “Please.”

  “I’ll be back in a minute.” While he got me a scotch I composed myself, daubing the tears from my eyes again and blowing my nose. He returned with my drink and sat down next to me, putting his arm around my shoulder again.

  “You don’t have to go on if you don’t want to,” he said.

  “I do. I want to tell you now,” I said. “If you want me to live with you I think you should know these things.”

  “Fair enough,” he said.

  “At the hospital I was examined by a doctor, Dr. O’Hare. But he didn’t believe what I told him, about Father Ken hurting me and Megan. His father was a big contributor to the shelter, and he’d taken me while Father Ken watched. Even worse, this man was a DA.”

  “A district attorney?”

  “Yes. I left the hospital before the cops came. I thought they’d take me away, lock me up in juvi hall or something. So I called Trish.”

  “Trish?”

  “This woman I met when I was shopping. A reporter for the Herald. She was really nice to me. I called her at her office and she picked me up and took me to her place. She took care of me and got me to tell her everything.” I took a sip of the drink my father had given me. It braced me, gave me the courage to go on.

  “This is where it gets weird,” I said. “She took the tapes into the office to be transcribed, and that’s the last time I saw her. I waited in her apartment for hours, and then she called, telling me to get out, to run, that they were coming for me.”

  “Who was coming for you?”

  “I don’t know. Police, maybe. Maybe men from the Archdiocese. I’d gone by the shelter that day and it was empty. Everyone was gone except for Katie, and she said that the Cardinal had sent men over to take all the boys away. They took Father Ken away, too.”

  “Katie?” my father asked.

  “Sister Katherine.”

  “Okay, keep going.”

  “So I ran. Trish told me where she had some money hidden, but there was only thirty dollars. I grabbed it and went to this abandoned building where me and some of the boys from the shelter went to smoke pot. I stayed there a few days. It was awful, just an old mattress on the floor. Rats and garbage everywhere. There were some work lights and there was running water, but no heat, no hot water, no toilets. Just a hole in the floor.”

  “My God, Annie,” my father said. “That’s terrible.”

  “I know. But I felt I had to hide. Anyway, I was walking back from the store one morning when this cab pulled over. I thought I recognized the driver, that he was the one who was driving when Trish picked me up, but he wasn’t. I didn’t realize that until I was in the cab already. He asked me if I was cold and said I could warm up for a while. He even gave me some hot coffee to sip.”

  “Did he touch you?”

  “No, not at first. He asked me how much I wanted.”

  “How much you wanted?” my father asked. “Wanted for what?”

  “How much I wanted for a blowjob.”

  “You didn’t...”

  “I did, Daddy. He offered me $30. I only had a few dollars left, so I did it. He even tipped me.”

  “Annie,” he said. I could feel his body tense up, his arm turning to stone on my shoulder. Maybe he was angry, maybe it was revulsion.

  “This is why I didn’t want to tell you these things,” I said. “You think I’m a dirty whore.”

  “Annie,” he said again, his voice softening. “So you sucked a guy for money one time. That doesn’t mean...”

  “He wasn’t the only one, Daddy.”

  “How many were there?”

  “I never bothered to count.”

  “You peddled your ass on the street?”

  “It was mostly blowjobs or handjobs, but yes,” I said. My father put down his drink and held his head in his hands.

  “I failed you,” he said, softly.

  “No, Daddy.” I put my arm around him. “You had no way of knowing. You weren’t there.”

  “That’s what I mean,” he said. “I wasn’t there for my little girl.”

  “It was only for a while, Daddy.”

  “Christ,” he muttered. “Annie...”

  “Daddy...”

  “Did you like it?”

  “What Daddy?”

  “I said ‘Did you like it?’“.

  “It was just a job, but sometimes...”

  “Tell me,” he said, taking a big sip of his scotch.

  “Well, there was Cecil, who just wanted to take pictures.”

  “Just pictures?”

  “We did more, but that was sort of my idea. We made a movie too, but then he got busted.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “Mr. Sheffield,” I said. “He was a rich guy who lived on Beacon Street. He liked me to wear his daughter’s clothes and pretend that I was his little girl.”

  “Really?” my father said, perking up. He took another sip of his drink and turned to face me, placing his hand on my thigh, gently caressing me. “Tell me about him.”

  “He was about your age, but his daughter was a couple of years younger than me. He was really nice to me, and he’d pay me a lot of money to spend the whole night. For a while I didn’t have to see anyone but him.”

  “What did you do together?” My father sounded curious now, and it sort of reminded me of the way Larry the cab driver liked to hear me tell him about some of the men I’d been with, jerking off while he listened to me talk about their cocks and what their semen tasted like.

  “I’d dress up for him in a short pleated skirt and put my hair up in pigtails, then I’d sit on his lap and he’d ask me how school went. It was pretty much the same thing every time. I’d tell him I was having trouble in Sex Education class, and I’d ask to see his cock, and then he’d let me touch him and suck him. Are you sure you want to hear about this, Daddy?”

  “Yes, I do. Go on.” He took another sip of his drink, and his face began to grow flushed.

  “I’d suck him until he came and then he’d tell me to get ready for bed. I’d go to his daughter’s bedroom and get into her nightie and get under the covers. Then he’d come in to tuck me in but he’d touch me instead, he’d lick me down there, and then he’d get on top of me. I had to pretend like he was taking my cherry.”

  “And you liked this?”

  “I did. I know it sounds weird, but I did. He was gentle, affectionate, generous. He took me out for dinner on his daughter’s birthday and even gave me a gold locket, a heart.”

  “Hooker with a heart of gold,” he said.

  “What?”

  “It’s an old saying,” my father said. “Anyone else?”

  “Well, there was Larry. He was the cab driver, the first one. He was pretty protective of me, and he’d come by almost every day, just to bring me coffee or some pot. Larry was with me the first night I went to Cecil’s, to pose for pictures, just to keep an eye out for me. He was like an older brother, almost. Then there was Mr. Antonelli. He was my landlord. He didn’t want to rent a room to me, but I offered to suck him, and I did it every week. The funny thing was that we really grew close. Sometimes he’d take me out to the North End and buy me lunch, then we’d go shopping at Haymarket and he’d make me dinner. He taught me to dance, slow dance, and then we�
�d make love. He was a sweet old guy.”

  “How old was he?”

  “Late seventies, early eighties, I think. His wife passed away years ago and he was really lonely. I was the only bright spot in his life, I guess.” I didn’t want to tell my father how Mr. Antonelli died of a heart attack while we were making love. It was too painful to think about.

  “Jesus, Annie,” my father said. “All these guys, didn’t you get the clap or something?”

  “No. I lucked out. After Bradley and Helen found me and took me in, they took me to a doctor and I had a physical.” I really had been lucky.

  “These are the people you’re living with in Boston?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know them?”

  “They were friends of Julia’s.”

  “This Julia,” my father asked, “how close were you?”

  “She was my lover, Daddy,” I said. “I loved her dearly. I miss her so much.”

  My father didn’t say anything. I could tell that he was blaming himself, something I hadn’t foreseen. I thought he’d think less of me, but he really thought less of himself, that he’d failed me, that somehow he could have prevented this all from happening.

  “Daddy,” I said. “There was nothing you could do.”

  “I guess not,” he said. “Seems like you’re more than able to take care of yourself.”

  “Am I still your little girl?”

  “Always and forever,” he said, pulling me on to his lap and wrapping his arms around me. We kissed, and I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

  “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you, too, Annie.”

  I kissed him again, letting his tongue part my lips and find mine. I could feel his hardness begin to grow inside his bathrobe, pressing up against my bottom. His kiss grew more passionate, and he began to nibble my lips, kissing my chin, my neck, suckling my nipples through the thin satin chemise I was wearing. I pulled it off over my head, giving my father access to my breasts, running my fingers through his hair as he ravished my little titties.

  I opened his robe and caressed his hairy chest and firm stomach, reaching down between his legs and stroking his hardness. He was still a bit sticky from making love with Mia, and I caught a whiff of her scent, still lingering in his wiry pubes. I got up from his lap and straddled him, and he scooted forward on the couch so I could bring my cleft closer to his cock, the tip pressing against my labia, seeking the heat and moisture within. My father cupped my ass, pulling me closer as I guided him inside me.

  “You feel so good,” my father whispered as I slowly sank down on his hardness, engulfing him completely.

  “Daddy...,” I gasped. We didn’t move for a moment, just staring into each other’s eyes. He kissed me, his tongue seeking my own, and now we were connected in two places. I sucked his busy tongue as if it were a little penis, rising in his lap as I pulled myself up the length of his shaft. When I could feel the fleshy rim of my father’s glans near the entrance to my passage, I slowly sat down again, swiveling my hips slightly so he stirred my honeypot with his throbbing prick.

  “I’d pay for this,” my father gasped. He smiled and kissed my neck, letting me know that he meant this as a compliment.

  “How much, Daddy?” I whispered. I moved my hips a bit faster, sliding up and down on my father’s hard meat. “A hundred?”

  “More,” he said, cupping my breasts and lowering his head, flicking his tongue over my nipples, left and right, first one and then the other, sending an electric sensation straight to my hungry sex.

  “A thousand?” I said.

  “More.” He bit one of my nipples, not too hard, just grazing his teeth over my stiff little bud. I gasped, tightening my grip on his shoulder, moving faster now, almost bouncing up and down in his lap.

  “A million?” I said, breathlessly.

  “More,” my father said. “Much more.” He released my breasts and grabbed my bottom, squeezing my cheeks, urging me to move faster. I felt my climax begin to grow, quickly, even though I’d just pleasured myself with the vibrator. I thought it would take longer. It always does the second time. But the hunger in me was strong; I’d just told my father the things I’d done and he still wanted me. It felt dirty telling him about Mr. Sheffield, it felt naughty, sexy. And this wasn’t pretend. This was real, this was my actual father’s cock inside me, plunging in and out of his daughter’s cunny.

  I wrapped my arms around my father and hugged him tight when I came, muffling my cries on his shoulder, hoping no one could hear me. I slowed my movements, my hips shuddering as a massive wave of pleasure coursed through my body, making my rhythm irregular, spasmodic. My father guided my bottom up and down with his hands, probing between my cheeks with his fingers, finding my bottom hole and penetrating it, bringing me to a second peak, an intense orgasm that left me trembling in his arms.

  My father grunted and pulled me back down on his cock, and I could feel him start to tense, to twitch, his glans flaring as he began to spurt his seed inside me. As he held me in a bear hug, I felt him keep pulsing in my sex, like a heartbeat, each throb bringing a flood of warmth within my passage.

  We held each other for a while, motionless except for our breathing. I wanted to stay connected to him forever, but gravity took over and I felt my father’s softening cock begin to slip out of me. I let out a little shiver as the tip passed my lips, his flaccid shaft falling across his hairy balls. His semen began to drip from my cleft, falling between his thighs, dripping on his penis, and soaking into the back of his bathrobe. We looked at each other and kissed.

  “What a mess,” he said, looking down at his crotch.

  “Let me clean you off, Daddy,” I said, climbing off of his lap. I knelt between his legs and kissed his lovely cock, taking it into my mouth and cleaning it with my tongue. He gasped, sensitive after our coupling, and then he leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes.

  “That feels great,” my father murmured. I finished cleaning him off, licking my lips and kissing his cock again, and then I got up from between his knees and sat next to him on the couch. He put his arm around me and kissed the top of my head as I laid it on his shoulder, snuggling up to him, running my hand over his broad chest. I pressed my thighs together, trying to stem the flow of semen that oozed from my pussy. We sat together in silence, sipping our drinks.

  “I’m sorry I left you and your mother back then,” my father said.

  “It was years ago, Daddy.”

  “Do you forgive me?”

  “Oh, Daddy...”

  “Do you?” he said.

  “Yes, Daddy,” I sighed. “I forgive you.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” He kissed me again. “I should get to bed,” he said, draining the rest of his drink.

  “Good night, Daddy.”

  “Good night, Annie. Sweet dreams.” We kissed once more and he got up from the couch, tying his robe, giving me one last look before he left Mia’s office, heading back to their bedroom. I took a few more sips of scotch and thought about writing about this in my journal, but the alcohol made me too drowsy. Before I got up, I daubed at my pussy with some tissues, trying to soak up some of my father’s cum. Then I slipped my chemise back on, grabbed my journal and my vibrator and headed off to bed.

  * * *

  Chapter Seven - Love In Vain

  “Sweet dreams,” he’d said, my father’s words echoing in my mind. Sweet indeed, though my dreams were as bizarre as always. I was in the dining room of this house, lying naked on the table, atop a delicate lace tablecloth. Someone was holding my wrists and ankles, not a tight grip, a gentle one, just enough to keep me open for someone. I looked around, left and right, up and down, trying to see who was restraining me.

  And there was Julia, and Helen, and Mia. And my mother. Each one had a wrist or an ankle, all of them beaming down at me, smiling as if this was a special occasion, a special day. There were candles lit on the side board, and a cake, and t
all flutes of champagne. Then I saw my father.

  He was wearing a long red silk robe, edged in black, tied with a black sash, some strange embroidered crest on the breast in gold thread, a dragon or snake. He opened the robe and stood between my open legs. I looked down and saw his cock begin to rise.

  My father’s penis was huge, enormous, like the idealized members in a Japanese woodcut, as thick as his thigh and bulging with veins and folds of skin, the head flaring to an almost sharp edge. I wondered how I would be able to take him, and I began to panic. He was too big; he’d tear me in half with his hardness. He pressed his massive organ against my cleft, and I tried to cry out, to tell him to stop, but I couldn’t utter a sound.

  “Don’t worry, baby,” my mother cooed, tenderly caressing my cheek. “It won’t hurt. Trust me.”

  My father began to enter me, and I tried to cry “Mommy...”, but the pain I expected to feel was absent, replaced by an intense wave of pleasure as his giant cock began to fill me. I looked down and saw my tummy begin to bulge, swelling up as my father plunged his member into my cleft. As he started to pull back, I saw that the swelling in my belly wasn’t going down. Instead, it began to fill, taking on the shape of an egg.

  I’m going to have a baby, I thought. This is the reason for my special day. My Daddy’s going to put a baby in me. That’s why everyone is here, to watch, to help.

  “You look beautiful, darling,” Julia said, stroking my arm as she held my wrist. I wanted to thank her, to tell her how much I loved her, but I still couldn’t speak. Then I wondered how I could be pregnant in the first place. My father hadn’t put his seed into me yet. Could it be someone else’s? Perhaps Ramon, or Bradley, Mr. Sheffield, Mr. Antonelli, or even Father Ken. I looked around for them, but there was just the six of us here, six seats at the table, six glasses of champagne, six plates of angel food cake.

  And then my father came, a tremendous gusher, filling me, his hot fluid oozing out of me. Mia let go of my ankle and collected the semen that dripped from my pussy in a stainless steel bowl. I could hear each individual drip go “ping...ping...ping...” against the metal. My father pulled out of me and then a steady stream of cum began to pour out of my sex. Mia collected it all in the bowl and then held it in front of me. I felt my mother and Julia let go of my arms and help me sit up on the table. I took the bowl from Mia and sipped. It was thin, watery, like the fluid that had spurted from Schultzie’s cock when he was humping Dana. I sipped some more, swallowing the bitter liquid, and then I handed the bowl back to Mia. She took a sip and was handing it to Helen when I woke up.