Daddy Avenges His Daughter - Cover

Daddy Avenges His Daughter

Copyright© 2014 by Arthur Dent

Chapter 9: Daddy’s Daughter in Danger

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 9: Daddy’s Daughter in Danger - Daddy catches his sexy 22-year-old housekeeper ravishing his tied-up 14-year-old daughter with a huge vibrator. Disgracefully, he ravishes the housekeeper. His daughter and her friends decide it must be okay to rape him, then. The housekeeper ravishes Mummy. Family Values go right out of the window.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   NonConsensual   Rape   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Sharing   Incest   Mother   Father   Daughter   Light Bond   Group Sex  

Breakfast the next day turned into a council of war. The girls, all of them, were bent on vengeance. The sex had bound us to Becky, and with the understanding and apologies all round she was one of us now.

Sally had checked the school website and all three of the blackmailing rapist gang were still there.

My new Becky-style Vonnie was still in favour of the ultimate solution: “Sex offenders always reoffend,” she pronounced, sounding as though she was quoting a website, “you can’t stop them by punishing them. They find some way to keep doing it, somewhere, even if it’s the other side of the world. The only way is to kill them. The fuckers. It’s what they deserve anyway.”

“We have to do something,” said Jilly, who didn’t seem to have lost any alertness from starting the day with a fuck, and was glowing with health even.

“We have to find out if they’re still doing it.” Sally’s mind was always good at focussing on what was important, “then we’ll know if it’s just revenge or if we have to do something for the sake of other girls.”

“We could keep watch on the tennis courts.” Even as I said it I knew it was feeble.

“They might not be using them now,” Becky pointed out, “they only used it the once with me, then it was their homes or cars and they swapped about.”

“It’s not easy spying I bet,” Vonnie’s a junior version of her mother in many ways. “People’ll start reporting you if you hang around the same place for too long not doing anything. Specially in a girls’ school.”

I could see where it was leading.

“I’ll go,” said Sue, “I’ll go and be at the school and perhaps they’ll start on me and we can get them.” Sue had a mixed-race beauty that would draw the teacher gang like a magnet, I was sure; but private schools are expensive.

“What do your mum and dad do?” I asked. I was pretty sure that would stop the crazy plan in its tracks.

“Dad’s an accountant,” she said, “normally, but he’s being made redundant.”

“It’s too expensive then,” I said, “it’s over twenty thousand a year.”

Jilly clung to me, not saying anything.

“It has to be me,” Vonnie was definite. “I can do it and you can be late with the fees and then not pay. They won’t be able to do anything.”

There was some more discussion. The arguments didn’t stack up at all, for me, but Sally didn’t support me: things had been talked round to it being a given that someone should go and enrol, and at least our daughter was our own responsibility not someone else’s.

I thought it was too risky but I was a lone voice of reason; the girls were all in attack mode. After some more talking and arguing it was decided. Sally phoned the school and found that new pupils and their fees were more than welcome even at short notice.


An interview was arranged; one that our bright only child passed easily.

So my beautiful, slender daughter, a mere fourteen years old, was going at the start of the new school year, in only two weeks’ time.

We bought a spy watch with camera recording, a separate spy camera that could transmit, and we signed up to a phone tracking service so we could always see where she was.

Sue and Jilly were determined to come, and had told their parents they were staying with Yvonne. Sally had phoned their school with a story about them being exposed to chicken pox and being in quarantine, and so my protestations about the risks and complications of having them there with us were doomed before I even found out.

We booked into a big chain hotel near the school, Sally saying we were spending the money the school thought they were going to get as Vonnie’s fees.

All too soon the big day arrived so we drove over, and Sally and I did the anxious parent act dropping off our daughter at her new school.

We went back to the hotel and waited. Vonnie texted that everything was OK, and we studied the website photos of the three members of the gang among the staff. Vonnie streamed some webcam from her phone so we could see the room, but as we’d expected the school network wouldn’t stream webcam from her laptop.

We logged onto the tracking site and found Vonnie’s phone just as we’d planned.

In the evening we had Sue and Jilly do the positioning of the video receivers, since having a man prowling around the grounds of a girls” school at dusk would not exactly be cunning. The girls met up with Vonnie to catch up with the details of how it was going, and to give her some contact - some moral support for our spy with her lonely secret role.

We spent the next day waiting for word from Vonnie, but heard nothing until the evening, when she called and told us she had a tennis lesson booked for the following day, but she didn’t know who with: it might be Miss Dugeon or another teacher.

The next evening Vonnie phoned with the news that she’d had her tennis lesson but it wasn’t with Miss Dugeon. However she’d had Biology with Mr Setright and managed to sit in the front row and get his attention, she thought.

We discussed the possible courses of action endlessly. We’d pinned our hopes on the start of a new school year meaning that the gang, if they were still ravishing girls, would be starting afresh. But of course they might have an existing victim returning, or one in mind to start on.

In any case there would be no more tempting bait than Yvonne, I’d wager, in the whole school. But like a fisherman, having cast the baited hook we could only wait.

The days passed in the hotel, and we fucked and took it in turns to go out, or down to the exercise room where they had a couple of machines and some weights.

By Friday evening we were beginning to lose hope. Miss Dugeon had given Vonnie a tennis lesson on Thursday and been quite friendly, but no more than that. I knew what Vonnie’s legs looked like in a tennis skirt and as long as Miss Dugeon liked them slender then as far as I was concerned they were a 10 on the scale of temptation.

But no bite.


About nine thirty in the evening my phone went with a text and I picked it up off the bedside unit. It was from Yvonne’s tracking program - her phone had gone beyond the zone we’d set around the school!

I opened my laptop and we all hopped up and down getting dressed while the tracking site updated ... Vonnie was a good fifteen miles away already! Heading West towards Wales.

Christ. We’d got all set up here and it was going to go off in some other place entirely.

“Roger,” Becky was thinking more clearly than Sally and me for the moment, without the weight of parenthood: “let’s get in your car. You drive, I’ll track. I might remember odd bits as well. Quick. Sally you take mine? I’ll phone where we’re heading, OK?” She tossed Sally her keys.

By the time I had the car out of the car park Becky had the laptop using my phone for its Internet connection. The tracking site was designed for companies to keep track of their drivers and displayed it on a map. It was beautiful.

We could see the road they were on, and they were indeed heading towards Wales. I drove as fast as I could and we gradually made up time on them, though they were going quite fast too - no doubt impatient to start helping themselves to my daughter’s nubile young body.

We followed the signal for over an hour, closing to within five minutes of them but never close enough to save her. We were right in the middle of Wales, a very remote area.

The signal held up at least, to my relief, and we watched the marker turn onto a lane, then into a large wood, and stop. Now what? I’m reasonably strong for my size but I had no idea about fighting.

We drove along the lane anyway, and saw a track leading up into the wood, towards the signal. I drove past, turned right and circled round to the other side of the wood. Becky phoned Sally and we sat and waited for the others to arrive.

It was eleven o’clock on a warm September night. The bad guys had our delicate girl in a cottage, and Becky said both the men and the woman were bigger than any of us. We sat there worrying.

The others arrived twenty minutes later and we had a council. First thing: did we want to call the police?

“If they haven’t done anything to her yet they won’t get much,” said Sue, “a couple of years at the most. With three of them they can make up a story.”

“And there’s you and Becky to think of,” added Sally. This was the whole issue, of course, that if we involved the police it was inevitable they’d find out about her raping. And the rest of us too ... God knew what we’d all end up being charged with.

We agreed we had to find out what was going on first. We climbed into the wood and headed in the direction of the cottage. Fortunately among the mountain of gear we’d packed were some torches.

Fortune continued to favour us as we found a track leading in the right direction, and it turned out to be a track right through the wood, with the cottage built next to it. We’d come from the other end on the same track they’d driven into. We took cover behind what looked like the central heating gas tank and peered across its little garden. I could dimly see a deck with a hot tub on it.

“Is it the same one?” I asked Becky in a whisper.

“I think so,” she murmured.

It was all dark, except for two lighted windows on the ground floor. Before I had a chance to do anything Sue was running in a crouch to one of the windows, where a shaft of light was showing the curtains weren’t drawn quite closed.

I grabbed Sally before she could go after her and we watched while Sue slowly raised her head to look in. At least with her lovely brown skin she was the best equipped to do that without being noticed, I realised.

I saw her stiffen in shock, then drop back down and scurry back to us. “They’re all fucking her, all at once!” she gasped, “in her ass and her mouth as well, all at once! Quick!”

Sally and I led the charge, not stopping to think. Our Vonnie being triple teamed! I tried the door but it was locked. I took a couple of paces back and shoulder-charged it, but bounced off. I tried again, with the same effect. Took a longer run, and bounced off again, hardly noticing the pain. Then it opened.

Standing facing me in the doorway was a man in a robe, about average size or a bit over. As I drew my fist back he jabbed me in the solar plexus and I collapsed, winded.

On my knees, gulping for a breath that would not come, I could only watch events unfold before me. Sally charged and the girls all piled into the man after her; the man who was Mr Thomas, the head of science.

He fell back and the girls ran into the house after him. I crawled into the empty hall, and looked into the sitting room, where everyone seemed to be.

I saw Becky being grabbed by a naked man, who had to be Mr Setright. He had her in a bear hug, from behind. She flung her head back, hitting him in the face, but he didn’t let go. She kicked backwards but her trainers softened the impacts. He was bigger than Mr Thomas and just held her tightly to one side.

Sally had fallen prey to Miss Dugeon, who was a good five feet nine and big-boned. She was pinning Sally down on a small sofa.

I watched Sue trying to poke Mr Thomas in the eye, but he outreached her by far. He gripped her hand and whirled her into an armchair, where he held her with one arm on her neck, from the side. With the other he was reaching into a pile of ropes.

I saw Vonnie, naked, tied face down to four ring bolts in the floor.

Jilly ran back past me and out into the night. There was nothing she could do against this overwhelming force, and she’s a gentle girl anyway.

I managed to get one shallow breath, then another, and in a few more seconds I’d have been on my feet, but Mr Thomas had been slick with tying Sue’s wrists and was on me before I could get up. He sat on me, then Miss Dugeon had tied Sally and came over to help him.

After a few more ineffectual struggles we were all as captive as the girl we’d come to save. I’d been a complete idiot. I’d lost my head completely, then been a total loser in the fight. Not that I’d ever in my life had a fight up to now.

“Wasn’t there another?” Miss Dugeon asked when things had quietened down.

“I don’t think so,” Mr Thomas said confidently, “four I made it.”

“Three more girls and a man,” Mr Setright was gloating horribly, “how very suitable. And Becky, Supergirl, how lovely to see you again!”

“Just as well we brought the Viagra,” sniggered Mr Thomas.

God. What an unmitigated disaster.

“Looks like we have a mother and daughter,” Miss Dugeon observed, “I think we can have some special fun there.”

“Daddy too, I reckon.” Thomas must seen something in my face as I looked at Vonnie.

They went round us one at a time, stripping us naked and leaving us bound and helpless.

“Don’t think you’re going to get away with this,” I tried to sound confident and fierce.

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