Taxi To Torture

ELEVEN I picked up the guy at the bus station and took him to the Milford Plaza Hotel. He was thin and balding, dressed in a new but not very expensive suit and a corny tie, and he carried a suitcase. An out-of-towner. As he paid the fare, he seemed a little nervous. He kind of hemmed and hawed for a minute, and then came out with it. "Say, you, uh...being a cab driver and all, I mean...uh...I mean, you know where I can--get a little action? You know what I mean?" Well, I had run into this before, and I started to tell him how I was relatively new on the job and didn't really know any... And then I stopped. I hesitated for a long time. Ten seconds, at least. "Sure," I said then. "I can get you the best lay in town. For nothing." # I called Pat at the place where she worked. "Listen," I told her. "I just picked up a guy who's looking to get laid. I sent him over there. I told him to ask for you." There was silence over the phone. Then, after a minute, she said: "Oh." Very softly. "I want you to give him a good time," I said. "Mel...I'm working...." "So take a few minutes off. Say you're sick." "I--I don't see how I can....Where am I going to..." "You can work it out," I said. "Take him to a back room or something. Or the ladies' room. I don't care. Just make it good. And remember it, because I want you to tell me all about it while I'm screwing you tonight." # "I sneaked him into the ladies' room," Pat panted. "And I locked the door." Her arms and legs were wrapped tightly around me, and her hips were rising and falling rhythmically beneath me in response to my steady thrusts. "I pulled up my skirt...and took off my panties and...and we did it standing up...against the wall...ohh...ohh Mel....And then he wanted to...go down on me... and...and I had to bite my arm...when I came...to keep from screaming...and--ohh, ahh...unhh...and then I bent over the sink and he...took me from behind...aahh Jesus!...And then I asked him if--if he wanted me to suck him...but he said he couldn't do any more...and he just wanted to...to take a piss...and I--I... Ooohh...ohh god....oohhh!..." "What did you do?" I grated, moving harder inside her. "Aahh!...I got down...and took him in my mouth...and--just held him there...while he...Aaahhh!...Unnhh...Unnhh!...Yes!... Aaaiiieee!!!" She came, bucking and spasming uncontrollably, and I came with her. # A couple of days later Pat got a letter. As she read it, a frown came over her face, and when she put it down she said, "Oh, damn." "What's the matter?" I asked. "It's from my father. He's coming to New York on a business trip. He'll be here Tuesday." "So?" "Well, it's just complicated. I mean, he doesn't know about you at all. And he certainly doesn't know I'm living with somebody. My god, he'd die. He's very straight and all. I guess I'll have to arrange to see him outside someplace. I just hope he doesn't get suspicious." "Why don't you just tell him the truth?" I said. "I told you, he'd probably have a stroke. He thinks I'm still a virgin or something, for god's sake. If he knew what his precious daughter was REALLY like..." She rolled her eyes. "I think it's about time your father learned the facts of life," I said. "You don't know my father." "In fact..." I began, and then I started to grin. I felt the grin grow wider while the idea percolated in my brain, and Pat's eyes narrowed as she saw my expression. "What?" she asked suspiciously. "In fact, I think it would be a great idea if old Daddy were to walk in here and find his sweet little daughter right in the middle of a good hot fuck." Pat stared at me in complete shock. She didn't move. She didn't say anything. For a long time. "You're not serious," she said then, flatly. "Sure I am." I watched her closely, and very gradually I saw it begin to sink in, begin to work on her. Her face went through a lot of changes. There was a real war going on inside her. I waited it out. Her eyes betrayed the final outcome long before she knew it herself. "My god!" she breathed. "He's...he's my father!" "That's the best part." Her breasts rose and fell a little too quickly under the shirt she was wearing. "I couldn't!...My father...God, he'd--he'd...I don't know WHAT he'd do. He'd kill me!" "I won't let him do that," I said. "But..." She moistened her lips. "Jesus!" she whispered. I could see where her stiff nipples were poking against the shirt-front. "Maybe he'll want to join in," I said. She caught her breath sharply, her eyes wide. "Ohh!" she gasped. "Oh, Mel..." She began to squirm in her chair. "My own father," she said throatily. "God, it's...it's so...DEPRAVED!" "Yeah." I grinned at her again. She was breathing harder than before. Almost unconsciously, one of her hands rose to her breast and caressed it with a little circular movement. "He'll just walk in here," she said in a crooning voice, "and I'll be fucking...naked...his little girl...with your cock inside me....Ohh Melll..." Her eyes closed. Her free hand started rubbing her crotch through her jeans. I watched her slowly writhing body until I couldn't stand it any more. "Let's start now," I said hoarsely, and went to her. # So, when George Donaldson, Pat's father, knocked on our door at seven o'clock Tuesday evening, after having phoned Pat from the airport and arranged to come over, his daughter was sitting astride my hips as I lay on my back on the floor, riding up and down on my cock for all she was worth, her naked body facing toward the door through which her father was about to enter. We had been fooling around for the past fifteen minutes or so to put ourselves in the right mood, but had been careful not to go too far. When the downstairs buzzer sounded, I jumped up to push the button, then said, "Okay, let's go," and got into position. Pat straddled me and slid down easily over my stiff tool, letting out a little moan. She was really turned on, by anticipation of the upcoming scene, and also by her own lingering sense of shame and embarrassment about it. Her nipples thrust out like tiny rigid fingers from the tips of her wonderful breasts. She started pumping herself over me immediately, in a slow but strong rhythm. "God!" she panted. "Oh god, Mel! He will die. He will just die!" "I think I hear him on the stairs," I said. "Ohhh...ooohhh..." "Easy," I cautioned her. "You don't want to get carried away yet." With an effort, she kept her movements steady, but the breath rushed in and out of her open mouth. Then there was the definite sound of footsteps on the last flight of stairs, and in a moment the knock came at the door. Pat's face paled, then flushed, all in a second; but she never stopped moving, and then she pulled in a breath and called: "Come in!" The door opened. The first thing I heard was a crash. By craning my head back I got an upside-down view of the doorway, and I realized that the noise had been made by a suitcase, which had dropped from the nerveless fingers of the man who was standing there. He was around fifty or so, with graying hair and a little bit of a paunch on a generally solid frame. He wore a suit and a pair of rimless glasses, behind which his eyes were now bulging like a madman's, staring incredulously at the scene that met them. "Hello, Daddy," Pat said breathlessly, still moving. "Come on in!" Donaldson was rigid with shock. HIs face changed color, just as Pat's had done a minute ago, but more slowly, turning first a deathly pale, and then a gradually deepening mottled red. He couldn't seem to get his breath properly. For a second I really wondered if he WAS going to have a stroke. He suddenly gave a strange, hoarse cry and turned swiftly around as if to leave. But he had taken only a step when Pat called to him. "Don't go, Daddy! Please don't. Please!" He stopped, hesitated, started to go, hesitated again, and then very slowly turned around. His eyes focused on us again, blinking, as if hoping that what he'd seen the first time had been a mirage. But what he saw was the same: his daughter, naked on the floor with a naked man, a cock up her cunt, humping herself up and down on it, her breasts bouncing boldly in the direction of her father, her face looking up at him radiant with pleasure and erotic passion. "My god!" Donaldson choked in an unearthly voice. He stepped like a zombie into the room, fumbling for the door to close it behind him. The redness was slowly ebbing from his face, leaving it looking sick. In fact, his whole appearance now resembled a man who had just been punched hard in the stomach. "My god!" he repeated. "Patricia! Stop that, for god's sake! What the hell do you think you're doing?" "I'm fucking, Daddy," Pat said. She moved harder. "Why don't you sit down and watch?" "Oh, dear god!" Donaldson cried huskily, and at that moment I wasn't sure whether he was going to jump at me and start beating me up, or faint dead away. Then he kind of clutched at his stomach and groped blindly for a chair. He fell heavily into it. "Patricia," he groaned. "Stop. Please stop." "Oh, no," Pat breathed. "Not yet. It's so much fun! Oh...I'm sorry. Daddy, this is Mel. He's my lover. He's a very nice boy--especially his cock. Oh, it feels so good up my cunt!" "Patricia!!" "Hi, Mr. Donaldson," I said. "Sorry I can't shake hands right now. My hands are kind of busy." I put them over Pat's breasts. She moaned. Donaldson made a rattling noise in his throat. "Please," he said weakly. "Please...Patricia, I...you...I can't believe..." "Oh, it's true, Daddy," Pat panted. "Your little girl has grown up. She fucks, she sucks, she does everything!" Her eyes were closed, and she was twisting her body from side to side as she pumped herself up and down. "She's a little slut...a cock-lover...a whore...." "Stop it!" her father cried. "I'm going to come," Pat gasped. "I'm going to come, Daddy. Watch me. Ohh. Ooohh. Watch me, Daddy. Watch me come. Aaahh! Now! I'm coming, Daddy! I'm commmiiinnng...." Her body went into a series of shattering convulsions, and she collapsed on top of me, her breath sounding like a bellows. "Patricia..." It was a groan of despair. Donaldson looked like he was about to cry. However, he hadn't once taken his eyes off us. "Patricia...how...how could you..." "Ohh, Daddy," she said breathlessly. "I love it...I just love it!" Lying on top of me, she began to wriggle her hips slowly and sensuously, her warm, wet cunt clutching at my still-stiff prick. Then she turned her head to look directly at her father. "Would you like to join us?" she asked. Donaldson started to turn red again. "Wh-what...what did you say?!" he choked. "You can if you want," Pat said. "Mel wouldn't mind. And neither would I." She smiled at him invitingly. His mouth opened, closed, opened again. "You...you're insane," he whispered. "Oh, come on, Daddy. Wouldn't you like to fuck me?" "Don't say that! Good god! You're my own daughter!" "Don't you think I'm attractive?" Pat said. She pushed herself up so that she was sitting on me again, and twisted her body to face him. "Don't you think I have nice breasts? And a good body?" "Stop it. Stop it!" "Don't you think I'm sexy?" Pat went on. "Mel does. Look." She swung herself off me and sat down on the floor next to me. "Look at his cock," she said throatily. "See how big and hard it is? Is yours like that, Daddy?" "Stop...please...." "Watch, Daddy." Pat bent down and licked my cock lovingly. "Mmmm," she crooned, running her tongue from base to tip. Then she put her mouth over it and sucked at it. Donaldson gave another inarticulate cry. Pat kept her eyes on her father while she slid her mouth over my prick. Then she lifted her head. "I love doing that, Daddy," she breathed. "I'll do it for you." "Patricia...for god's sake..." Patricia got to her feet then, and walked slowly toward her father, her hips swaying. "You'd like to fuck me, Daddy," she said softly. "I know you would." "No! No!" His face was twisted with horror--and something else. "Oh, yes," Pat whispered. "I know. I can see your cock is hard right now." Donaldson squirmed in his chair, ineffectually trying to conceal the bulge at his crotch. "No! Stay away from me!" "Let me see it, Daddy. Please. Let me just look at it." "Stop!" Donaldson made an abortive attempt to get up, but by this time Pat was standing in front of him. He didn't look as if his legs would have held him anyway. "Just a look," Pat pleaded. She knelt down suddenly and reached for his fly. Before he could move to stop her, she had pulled down his zipper and released his rigid penis, which stood pale and throbbing in the air. "Ohh, lovely," Pat breathed, and bent her head toward it. "No!!" With a convulsive movement, he clapped his hands over his crotch, protecting the prick from her touch. She drew her head back. "Let me, Daddy..." "No...no...You mustn't....You're my daughter..." Pat lay down on her back, just in front of his chair, and spread her legs enticingly, so that her open cunt was exposed to him. "Fuck me, Daddy," she moaned. "Put it in my. Stick it up my cunt." "Please....Stop...We can't...." Donaldson was panting and twisting in his chair. One of his hands had somehow closed around the cock it had been guarding. Almost unconsciously, the hand began to move very slightly, up and down. Pat saw what he was doing. She opened her legs still wider, and her own hand went between them. She began to finger her cunt and clitoris, her body squirming against the floor. "Do it, Daddy," she gasped. "Look at me and do it...." "Patricia...my god...I can't...I can't help..." His hand was stroking himself openly now. "Yes....Do it....Think about fucking me....Pretend you're inside me...deep inside me....Ohh Daddy...fuck me..." "Oh god....Oh Jesus....Oh god...." Donaldson was gasping, and moving his hand with a strong, steady rhythm as he stared down at the writhing, rolling, naked body of his daughter. "Come, Daddy....Come inside me....Come in your daughter's cunt....Shoot it into me...into your little whore daughter.... Come...." "Patriciaaa!!" he shouted helplessly, and with a sudden wrenching spasm of his whole body, he exploded, his sperm shooting in silver jets from the tip of his cock, arching in the air, and falling in splatters onto his daughter's body. "Ahh! Oh beautiful, Daddy!" she cried. "Beautiful!" And with her hands she smeared his come all over the front of her, rubbing it lovingly into the flesh of her breasts and belly. Donaldson hid his face in his hands. # It wasn't until nearly two hours later that Pat actually got him to fuck her. She did it by getting him to spank her first "for being such a bad girl." And by the time he went home, three days later, he had come to know intimately every hole in her body, had developed an expert technique with the spatula, and would never be the same again. # About a week after that, I came home later than usual, and found Pat preparing dinner. She greeted me cheerfully enough, but as I got a can of beer from the fridge and sat at the kitchen table to drink it, I got the impression that there was something unusual about her manner. She seemed to be moving very carefully. her face had a strained look, too. "Anything happen today?" I asked. Very casually she said, "I went up to the Harris' after work this afternoon." "Oh? How come?" "Emma invited me. We...played around a little." "I'll bet. Was Harris there? Jessica?" "No. Just us two girls. And...I tried on Emma's bra. The special one." I put down my beer. "My god," I said. "Her bra would be too small for you." "Yes, it was. It is." I stared at her. "You mean..." "She let me borrow it," she said. "I'm wearing it now." We never got around to dinner that night. # Much later, lying beside her in bed, I said, "Your birthday's coming up next week. How would you like to have a bra like that made just for you?" "I'd love it," she said. Then she added, "But that's not what I really want most." "You're a greedy little bitch," I said. "Okay, what do you really want?" She told me. # I called Harris the next day. As I had expected, he said he would be delighted to help. And so, early on the morning of her birthday, I escorted Patricia, her hands fastened behind her, to Osindorf's garage. Harris was waiting for us outside, with two men who I recognized. "Ah, Patricia," he greeted her. "Happy birthday, my dear. How lovely you look. And what a wonderful present you have chosen for yourself--and all of us. How fortunate that I never got around to having those rings removed from the floor. Well--shall we go in? We mustn't keep all those men waiting." We went into the garage together. THE END