It wasn’t so much the thought of the crippling debt that scared me as much as the techniques they’d use to get it all back.
It started of with a gram here and there, the odd party or rave but it was soon out of control and now I’m getting threats.
YOU PAY OR SHE DOES! 12HRS.
That’s the letter they posted through my door yesterday morning whilst I’d gone jogging. Plain and simple. They didn’t have to specify, I knew they meant my daughter. She’d already warned me that she’d seen them, lurking around outside her college, hooded up and blacked out. I’d no idea what they were planning but I knew they’d targeted her and so I told her to stay at home at all times. She hated that. Any teenage girl would.
That was a few weeks ago and we hadn’t seen them since so I just thought they’d switched tactics you know? How wrong could I have been?
It’s 6:49pm now and I’m starting to worry. Maize is usually back from college by five, six at the latest and still I haven’t heard a peep. I try to calm my nerves, pace from room to room, check and recheck my phone hoping for a call or even a text. Nothing.
“Relax,” I tell myself. “It’s only a few blocks away and she knows not to walk home alone.”
The clock is reading 8:27pm when my phone finally pings with a message. I almost trip over my own feet in the haste to read it. My heart pounds relief, I’m sure it must be Maize, look at the time!
My head spins and my stomach flips as my mind process the image on the screen in front of me. My baby, my only daughter!
Her legs are spread wide, kept apart by a long metal pole and shackled at both anckles.
What’s left of her pleated blue skirt is twisted around her tiny waist. Her blouse has been ripped in two and draped over her face to keep her blind. I’m only certain it’s Maize because of her strawberry blonde curls which are now in a matted halo around her currently invisible face.
Around her almost naked body I can make out at least three figures but their shadows
conceal their features. It’s a shame that that’s all they conceal. I can make out each one of them, hands around their long thick looking cocks, all aimed at her exposed chest and breasts. I don’t know what to do. I have no idea where she is or how I’m supposed to get to her but I know I must. I have got to get to her before they do anything worse, god only knows what that could be…
“Why!?” She’s stopped screaming now. I guess being fucked for two hours straight by seven different men would drain the energy from anyone. “Why me?”
The girl is still naked but I’ve taken the cloth that was her shirt from her face now. I don’t need to hide my face, I just didn’t want her face in the picture. Now that she can see me, I can see her more clearly too. The bright blue pools of her eyes are framed in long almost invisible blonde lashes that match her strawberry curls. Her lips are also strawberry but if a different make, bright red after hours of forced to suck on throbbing cocks.
“I didn’t want to do this you know.” I try to explain myself, I don’t know why, guilt? I doubt it but still I continue. “If your father paid his bills on time you wouldn’t be here.”
She rolls her beautiful eyes and tries to sag her shoulders but the cuffs that are holding her hands above her head prevent it.
“You’re full of shit you know.” Her tone is resigned, not angry or hateful, she says it as a matter of fact. “There are so many other ways you could have got your money out of my shitty dad, you wanted this. I don’t know why you’re bothering to deny it.”
She’s right. Of course she is! Even now, I’ve fucked every hole in her perfect little body and still my cock is solid. I’m insatiable! I’m supposed to be giving her a rest whilst my partner gets hold of the girls dad but I can help thoughts of my cock forcing its way back down her throat from invading my mind. I feel wetness dripping down the inside of my thigh and suddenly think fuck it! She’s here for a reason. Getting up I stroll towards her, freeing my member, letting it bounce towards her face. With a handful of her curls wound tightly around my first, I force her face back onto my cock and push him as far down her throat as I can.
Just then the door swings open and my partner walks in all smiles. “He’s coming boss.”
They’ve showered and dressed me and I don’t know why. A few minutes ago there were three guys taking turns trying to see who could fit the most fingers in my ass and the next I’m being shoved down a corridor and told to clean the fuck up. My heads spinning but I do as I was told. In the room they locked me in I found a long black dress with thin crossed straps and a pair of black stiletto pumps with a heel so big that it reminds me of the long cocks that had been choking me just a few minutes earlier. Now that I’m clean I dress in those. My hair is a tangled mess and all over my pale skin I can still see the handprints of those men in the form of small red bruises, not dark enough to be physically painful, just enough to remind me of the battering my poor holes had to endure.
Over by the mirror there’s a red make up bag and as I rummage through it, using what I can, i think back to the last thing I heard the boss say. “I think he’s here.”. He seemed happy about this mans arrival, excited almost. I can’t help but wonder who it is they were meaning. Maybe the guy they’re all calling boss is only the boss of them and maybe the real boss has arrived? That would explain the need for me to look half way presentable. Although that was the case, would they have used me the way they did? Wouldn’t they have saved me for their boss? It’s not like I’d be much use to him now! I can still feel the tiny cuts in my ass and my pussy every time I try to walk or sit. My lips are bruised and my throat is so raw I’m scared that if I have to speak I’ll only manage a squeak. Maybe that’s how he likes them? Or maybe I’m on the wrong path altogether. I pull my hair into two ponytails as requested and start to mull over who else it could possibly be. I keep trying to beer away from the thought but no matter how hard it try my mind keeps coming back with the same conclusion but it can’t be right. It just can’t possibly be him!