Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 What They Did to my Daughter By Little Bree (Lttlbree@yahoo.com) (mmm/f,
nc, rape, anal, exh, teens, voy, hints at inc) _______________________

   Author's Note: This one was inspired by and dedicated to the men who
spend their time in AOL chat rooms discussing their daughters.  I didn't
know you existed, I'm sort of horrified by you, but the idea of you turns
me on.

   I was trying to capture a certain voice, so this reads a little
different than my usual stuff.

   Feedback very appreciated.  Craved even!  Feel free to email
(lttlbree@yahoo.com), use asstr's handy feedback form, or visit my webpage
(/~Little_Bree/) and leave a comment.  Any indication
that people are reading this stuff, even if they hate it, is very
appreciated!)

   Also, as always: this is fantasy.  Do not do this stuff.

   If you're under 18, please don't read this.  There's more wholesome
pornography on the internet for you.  This is the sort of thing that will
rot your brain and ruin you for normal sex when you're eventually having
it. Don't read it.  __________________

   I'm writing this down because the doctors say it'll help me deal with
what happened.  The thing that happened to my 15 year old daughter, Becky.

   Jesus, I didn't know it'd be this hard to start.

   I just have to get it out: they raped my daughter.  Two months ago,
three older boys from her school locked her in a basement and gang raped
her for most of an afternoon and evening.  They taped the whole thing,
bragged about it, and sent copies to their friends.  When they finished,
they left her passed out and naked next to the high school dumpster.

   I've been over all of that so many times.  I sat and held her hand while
she cried through the police interviews and the deposition.  I listened
while they made her talk about every graphic detail ("was your vagina wet
then?" "what did you say after he called you a slut?" "was that before or
after they penetrated your anus?") I saw her turn white when the
prosecutors told us about the plea bargain, that the little punks would be
walking free in less than a year.

   Sure, it makes me angry.  It has to right?  She's my daughter.

   But it gives me such a hard on, when I think about it all.  I whack off
four times a day thinking about that scene.  The copy of the video--the one
they sent to threaten her with after we called the cops--I keep it hidden
and watch whenever I'm alone.

   Obviously, that's why I'm just writing things down.  Would you talk to a
therapist about that?

   I guess I'm supposed to be introspective here, and start from the top.
So I'll start out with a confession: I've raped a few women myself.  More
than a few, actually.  Not recently, of course---I gave that up years ago,
along with the drinking--but as a younger man I didn't think twice about
forcing my cock into some chick's twat while she balled about it.

   My friends and me, as soon as we were old enough to know what our cocks
were for, we figured out it was pretty easy to trap a girl in a garage or a
field somewhere and take turns on her.  I guess that seems sick now, but
where I grew up in Kansas, it was pretty normal.  Everybody did it.  Most
of those girls learned pretty quick to just lay back and take it, and some
of them even let on like they liked it.  I guess I was sick even then,
though, `cause it pissed me off when they acted happy, and I made a point
to really hurt those little bitches.

   Obviously, I had girlfriends who put out without me making `em, too. 
Well, mostly they put out without me making them.  Some Kansas girls like
to pretend they're saving it for marriage, so you gotta be rough the first
couple of times with `em.

   My first wife, Allison, Becky's mom, she was one of those.  She was just
a young thing when we wet out--16 then, when I was 23 and just out of
college--but she was a cheerleader with nice big tits, so I assumed
somebody'd already fucked her.  She cried and said she was a virgin, but I
didn't believe her `til she bled all over my car seat that night.  She
cried so much afterwards, it actually made me feel bad about it.  I think
that may be the only reason I ever married her, even.

   Of course, it turns out, even if you marry a girl she doesn't have to
let you fuck her.  After we spent the first three months of our horrible
marriage screaming at one another, Allison decided she wasn't going to let
me do her anymore.  She tries to tell me no, that first time, and I lost my
shit.  I smacked her up good and literally ripped her clothes off of her.
Then I pinned her down and fucked her butt.  I just pounded into her dry,
and all she could do was scream.  She screamed so loud, the neighbors
called the cops and they came pounding on our door; when they told Alison
she could stay with me or go to a shelter, she chickened out and stayed
with me.  We were married for two more years after that, and that scene
repeated so often, the cops stopped even coming out to our house.

   Allison and I didn't fight constantly, once she learned her place, but
mostly I had to hurt her to get her to fuck.  Honestly, it always made the
sex better.

   It's sort of appropriate that Becky got her cherry popped by a rapist,
then, because the girl was most likely conceived while I was raping her
mother.  That probably wouldn't make her feel better about any of this,
though, right?

   Like I said before, though, I straightened out after Becky was born.  I
got sober, grew up a bit, started making an effort to be a decent person. I
can't say I ever treated Allison right, especially not in bed, but really
our marriage was doomed way before then anyway.  She deserved better than
me, and after we divorced she ended up with a real decent guy.  He treated
her good, I know, and he was a good stepfather to Becky.

   We had our troubles, but I was really sad when Allison and her husband
died this summer.  I mean that.  I cried at the funeral, even though I was
doing my best to stay strong for my daughter.

   Becky came to live with us in August.  My wife--my new wife, Hope--she
was great, absolutely doting over the girl.  Becky was obviously down,
having to move all the way out to California with us, but we did our best
and eventually she seemed well adjusted.  At least that's what we thought,
you know?

   And here I am, already, just at thought of what's coming next I feel
like I have to stop and go jerk off.

   I need to stop kidding myself, don't I?

   I'm not an anguished dad struggling with my feelings over all of this.
I'm not writing this down because I'm too distraught to speak to doctors,
I'm writing it down because I want strangers get off on it, too.

   I love what those little shits did to Becky.  I wish I was there to have
seen it, and I fantasize about them doing it again.  God it feels good to
finally just admit that to myself!

   Becky is a pretty girl, almost the spitting image of her mother at that
age.  She's 5'3" or so, with that long, slender-hipped teenage figure.  Her
hair is dirty blonde, but streaked with strands the color of yellow straw.
She's got nice little perky tits, 32b on her bra, but the thing you notice
first about her is her eyes--they're big, walnut shaped and strikingly
blue. I know every guy says his daughter is pretty, but mine definitely is.


   Oddly enough, despite the good looks and sweet demeanor, Becky had a lot
of trouble making friends at the new school.  I guess she's shy, and new
kids always get a hard time in high school.  She came home crying every day
those first couple of weeks.

   Then she met Brad, and she latched onto him.

   I knew the kid was trouble as soon as I laid eyes on him.  He was
sitting there in my living room with his hat on backwards and his pants too
low.  I should've tossed his ass out when I caught him so-very-casually
pawing at my little girl's ass through her jeans, but I didn't want to
overreact and I figured she was having enough trouble adjusting.  I watched
them though, secretly loving the way he kept putting his hand back on her
no matter how many times she shyly pushed it away.

   At one point, during the three or four week spell when Brad practically
lived in my house after school, I caught a glance of him pawing up under
her skirt.  I couldn't stop to stare, or I'd have risked getting caught,
but I could see Becky's eyes pursed tightly shut, and she looked almost
petrified with nerves.  I wondered how long he'd had to work to get her to
agree to that.

   That was all she ever let him do.  I don't mean that's all I ever saw,
either.  Brad told us so on the video.  Before she's even come into view,
he and his cohorts are huddled in the basement speaking into the camera. 
They have masks on, but it's not like I don't know which one he is.

   "Becky Healy is a cock teasing little bitch," he snarled.  "Three weeks
I've been listening to her whine about her dead mom and how sad it was to
have to fucking live here and one time--one fucking time!--she let me touch
her pussy.  Through her panties!"

   At this point, his cohorts chime in to sympathize with poor Brad's
plight and agree that my daughter is indeed a "teasing little bitch."

   The video then cuts to a full screen still shot of Becky.  She's
standing in our bathroom, cellphone in hand, dressed in little red panties
and nothing more.  Her tits look spectacular.  "This is our girl," narrates
Brad, "great body, right?" What's more intriguing than her body--admittedly
great--is the look on her face: she's forcing a smile, clearly
uncomfortable.  I can only imagine, as I watch, that Brad had to threaten
to leave her to get a picture like that.

   "So today," continued Brad as he reappeared on screen, "me and my boys
here are going to show this bitch how we do it in the O.C.  Git ready,
`cause this bi-otch is about t'get her cherry POPPED." He shouted that last
part, and his boys shouted out their enthusiastic concurrence.

   Those boys are fired up, and their lust is contagious.  I relish it when
I watch.  Those boys are about to put their dicks in my daughter, I think,
and my adrenaline starts pumping.

   Then I see Brad and Becky on the couch in his basement.  She's got her
hair pulled back in a ponytailing, wearing a short denim skirt and a tight
baby blue t-shirt.  I know that outfit well, because the cops asked Becky
to identify the tattered shards of it later that night, but it looks good
on her.

   The camera's pointing upward from the floor, and I can see Brad's hand
in my daughter's silky pink panties.  She grabs his wrist and pushes the
hand away, but he slips back without missing a beat.

   "No," she moans, trying again to push him away.  "Stop!"

   Brad retreats from her pussy, but lands a hand on her breast.  "Come
on," he moans back at her.

   "No, Brad," she pleads.  "You promised!"

   "Come on," he repeats, tugging again at her panties.  "Just suck my dick
a little."

   "No," she insists.  "I don't do that!"

   Brad looks frustrated.  "Then let me fuck you," he says.

   "Oh my God," she says, exacerbated.  She pushes him away with both hands
and sits up on the couch.  "Why are you being like this?" her voice is
shaking, and she's clearly upset.

   "You been giving me blue balls for three weeks is why," he shouts.  "I
think you owe me some of that pussy."

   Becky stands up, pushed way too far.  "Fuck you," she snaps as she
marches towards the door.

   The boy working the camera zooms in on her shapely bottom.  It's small
and tight and the denim hugs it perfectly.  I don't even care that she's my
daughter.

   Brad let her get a few steps before he grabbed her by her ponytail and
jerked her back.  It was a harsh way to do it.  Brad was easily 6'1".  He
could've lifted a little girl like Becky pretty easily, but he yanked her
down by the hair.  Sick, right?

   So Becky's lying flat on her back, and the kid with camera--Dave is his
name, I know, though I don't know if they say so in the video--he has to
get up from his hiding place to get the shot.  He and the third guy, Steve,
they come out and stand over Becky.  You can see the look in her face when
she sees the two of them, just this utter despair, because she knows right
then that something's up.  Those big blue eyes, they're welling up with
tears.  It's really beautiful camera work, I have to give him that.

   Becky tries to stand up, but Brad kicks her feet out from under her as
soon as she does.  "Take your clothes off," he says.  She tries to stand
again and once more he kicks her down and orders her to strip.  They go
through the motions again, but this time, once she's down, Brad kicks her
good and hard in the stomach.  She curls into a fetal position and the boys
all laugh.

   Brad shouts down at her viciously.  "Take your fucking clothes off so we
can fuck you, bitch!"

   The boys seem to enjoy yelling at her, but they've got scissors out
before she can move to undress anyway.  They slice through the t-shirt and
toss the shredded remains to the side.  The denim skirt is too tough to cut
through with regular scissors, but they try anyway, seemingly just to be
mean; eventually they give up and just yank that off of her.

   Her panties and bra don't match.  The panties, which you could already
see when Brad was groping her, are a light purple, a little ruffley.  The
bra is just plain white.  Obviously she didn't expect anyone to see them,
and that realization makes me smile.

   At this point it's obvious that the boys intend to rape her, and she's
crying and screaming for help while two of them hold her down.

   "Fucking gross!" shouts Steve, the boy holding her legs while Brad
straddles her chest.  "The bitch wet herself!"

   Sure enough, you see as the camera focuses in on her damp crotch, Becky
peed in her panties.  Zoomed in that close you can see her skinny little
legs shaking, violently.  That's the sort of fear that you usually write
off as hyperbole--the sort that makes you convulse and lose control of your
bladder, but there it is right there on film.

   The boys laugh and jeer and Becky actually looks ashamed.  Funny isn't
it?  She's beyond terrified but she's still embarrassed about wetting her
pants.

   Steve demands the scissors, and cuts away the urine soaked briefs.  He
hands them to Brad and the pair laugh knowingly before the taller boy wads
them into a ball and stuffs them into my daughter's mouth.  "Drink up your
piss, you disgusting slut!" he shouts.  I cringe over how much I love that
part.

   Dave pans back so we see the length of her, naked there beneath the two
clothed boys except for her socks.  I hadn't even noticed the socks
before--baby blue, like the tshirt they'd long since shredded.  They
probably matched before.

   "Get in here," shouts Steve.  "Get a close up."

   The screen fills with pussy, Becky's delicious, fifteen year old virgin
pussy.  The last time I saw her down there, she was maybe 5 or 6...just a
little girl.  At a certain point, daughters stop being kids and start being
women, so you stop seeing vaginas.  It's a beautiful pussy though, small
lipped and tight, like a young flower still waiting to bloom.

   Someone, I can't see who, has his fingers in her, probing her outer lips
as Dave zooms in close.  The moisture glistens, and the boys laugh at her.
"All wet already?" someone taunts.

   Again the camera pulls back, and Becky's face is in the frame.  She's
still got the panties in her mouth, and she's crying.  I wonder if she's
thinking of me--"I wish Daddy was here to save me"--isn't that normal?  I
probably should want to save her, but my cock is always throbbing at the
site of her pinned down like that.

   "You ready, slut?" demands Brad, still off camera.

   Becky shakes her head.

   "Oh she's ready," says Steve.

   "You ever had a cock, Becky?" asks Brad.

   She doesn't even bother responding.  It's pointless probably anyway. 
But Brad reaches out and slaps her across the face, determined to make her
play his game.

   "I asked you a question," he snaps.  "Have you ever had a dick in you?"

   Becky is still shaking and sobbing, but she shakes her head no.

   "Nice," says Brad.  "So it's gonna bleed?"

   I can tell, just looking at her, that Becky doesn't know what he means.
Sure, her mom probably told her about her hymen but who thinks about that
on the brink of being raped?  Plus, obviously, not all girls actually
bleed, but young guys don't know that.

   She ultimately nods yes.  He seems happy.  She looks relieved.

   Brad and Steve argue over who gets to go first.  Becky is his
girlfriend, Brad argues, so he should have the honors, but Steve counters
that he's doing this as a favor so he should.  "Fuck that," says Brad,
though, reminding Steve that he got to go first on that Puerto Rican 7th
grader.  Ultimately, they decide that Brad can go first, but Steve gets to
"break in her butthole." Dave is promised leftovers.

   "When we're done," asks Dave from behind the camera, "can we cut her
tits off?" The other boys laugh.

   All the while, as they discuss her in such crude, pornographic terms,
the camera is fixed on Becky's tear streaked, terrified face.

   It all sounds so mechanical, doesn't it?  Like I'm describing a porn
movie?  I guess that's what I am doing.  How do you even convey what it's
like though, to see your little girl reduced to a whimpering mess like
that? To watch them just use her?

   The other night, Allison was out of town and I put the video on in my
room, with the head phones.  I was at that point--where they'd just decided
that Brad got to go first--when I heard Becky turning on the shower.  Just
there, on the other side of the bedroom wall, she was naked and lathering
her supple teenage body.

   It crossed my mind that I could have had her right then.  Maybe I'd put
on a mask and burst in on her, or maybe I wouldn't even bother with the
mask.  What would she do?  What could she do?  The little bitch would
probably just lie back and take it.  She's out of men to trust.

   Instead I just listened to her shower and imagined her reliving what
they did.  Does she break down sobbing or touch herself when she thinks
about it?  I couldn't decide.

   I turned back to the video.

   The order decided, the boys stand in a circle around her.  They aren't
holding her down, but when she tries to stand, they kicked her back down.

   "Crawl, bitch," says Brad.

   Becky looks confused, but she rolls onto her hands and knees.

   "Good, bitch," he says.  "Get your ass up high!"

   She lowers her face and hike up her butt.  Already I want to cream!

   Then Brad lowers himself down, his coarse hands on the smooth skin of
her hips.  She's still sobbing, but there's a whole new terror in her eyes.
She knows it's coming.

   Curse that little shit with the camera, because he didn't zoom in.  He
didn't get the a frame full of Brad's fat cock burrowing into the soft
fold's of Becy's tight virgin cunt.  It would've been priceless!  Instead,
though, he filled a shot with her tear streaked face.  She screams as he
impales her, and her pained wailing is offset by the way the boys laugh at
her.

   Usually, at this point, I can't control myself and I cum.  While they're
popping my little girl's cherry right there before my eyes, I shoot my load
in my hands.

   The boys don't stop though.  Brad shoves himself up into her pussy like
he wants to hurt her, slamming his hips hard against her every time.  He
probably does want to hurt her.  Sure enough, with every slam, she
whimpers. Sometimes she screams.

   "I'm gonna cum in your cunt, bitch!" he shouts as he speeds up his
thrusts.

   Becky panics, and moans "No!" She's not on the pill, obviously, and I
know he knows it.  Why would she be?  It's a sick little thrill for him,
putting his seed in her vulnerable womb like that.  He cums hard and long,
and forces every drop into her.

   When she drops to the floor, Dave finally zooms in.  The blood and cum
seeping out of her is transfixing to me.  Her mother bled like that, too, I
remember.  I wonder if she'll have a little bitch daughter someday, who'll
get fucked into womanhood the same way.  The thought makes me smile.

   Steve, when he flips her onto her back and raises her legs in the air to
impale her bung hole, is not one for showmanship.  I like watching her legs
tremble, as he keeps them hoisted in the air, but she's already
defeated--there's no more struggling.  It becomes so much less fun.

   When Dave has his first turn, she's essentially passed out.  The video
goes on for hours--they fuck her in every hole, stuff objects into every
orifice, and ultimately content themselves punching and kicking her as she
fights to regain consciousness.  I wonder if they expected her to live at
all.

   Like I said, we found her in the dumpster outside the school.

   The boys are spending their year in detention centers, probably
perfecting their methods and conferring with other rapists.  I sometimes
wonder if any of the others got a little bitch as cute as mine.

   Becky, she's sullen.  Sometimes she smiles, but not a lot.  The bruises
all healed, but they broke something inside of her that just can't be
fixed. The girl spends hours online, doing God knows what with God knows
who.  I try not to pry, but it's hard.  I've seen the condoms in her panty
drawer, the ones that weren't there before, and I wonder who she's slutting
herself out to now, a poor pathetic used up cunt.

   For me, it's hard.  I guess we've come full circle right?  Back to me on
the internet.

   I found the "Dirty Father's Chatting" chat room on AOL a month or so
after it all happened.  It was one of those nights when I couldn't sleep,
the stress of it all and the constant wicked thoughts that never left my
brain.  I didn't even know AOL chat rooms still existed.

   The men in there were mostly just pedophile scum looking at other
people's kids, but there was a hard core contingent of dad's with hard ons
they couldn't ignore.  Some of them wanted to fuck their kids, but some of
them, like me, we just liked to watch.  We traded pictures, stories,
fantasies.  Maybe I sent a video to one or two.  I loved knowing that other
guys were out there watching Becky's rape, feeling that surge and orgasming
over it.

   So maybe I got carried away, and maybe I should have known better.  When
that fellow in Ohio said he wanted a video of his own, shots of his little
big eyed brunette teenage daughter taking cock while she sobbed like Becky,
who was I to tell him no?

   Ohio was nicer than people say, and little girls are more fun when they
sob straight through.