Chapter 17: Guilt, Anger, and Defiance

George's temporarily pacified brat-of-a-daughter became more defiant than ever in the days following her trip to his boss's house.

He didn't understand what had changed. When he picked her up from the fat-ass prick's house she'd been quiet and obviously exhausted, but it hadn't appeared that she'd been hurt. That night, in fact, George had stole into her bedroom to inspect her body but had found nothing more than slight scratches on her otherwise smooth, soft back. Her pussy was sort of red, but that was expected, and as far as he could tell she hadn't even been corn-holed.

So what was the big deal? So yet another guy had fucked her, so what? Why the sudden change in her attitude?

That change had begun the very next day. At first it was just small things, like rolling her eyes at him again when he gave her orders. It wasn't long before she began talking back to him, though, and eventually she even began defying him.

He overlooked these transgressions at first, perhaps out of guilt. But then, the following Wednesday, the 50-something Vietnam vet got home from work to find his daughter watching a disgustingly illegal porn-movie on his DVD player. It was obviously an amateur-made movie starring two girls no older than ten jerking off a man old enough to be their father. And she, his teenage daughter, was sitting in his chair watching this trash, rubbing herself between her legs under her tiny, slutty little skirt.

"What the fuck are you watching?!" he screamed after she ignored his presence.

The little brat had responded slowly, bringing her large pretty eyes around to stare up at him. She didn't discontinue her masturbation when she said, "Uhm, isn't it obvious?"

That made him fly into a rage. After marching over to the entertainment system he tore the DVD out of the player, calling his daughter the most horrible things he could think of before snapping the silver disc in two right in front of her eyes. It might have stopped there but then the little bitch smirked at him. In response he grabbed her by her hair and thew her to the floor, almost causing her to crack her head against the coffee table.

"This shit in my house?!?" he'd growled at the shaken girl. He watched as the little slut groaned for a second and then touched her lip. There was blood there. But rather than feel any guilt or remorse, George grew angrier than ever.

In a flash he was on her. He got on top of her small body in seconds and forced the struggling girl's arms above her head. He held them there by her wrists with one hand while he practically spit in her face, screaming and cursing and letting all the frustrations he'd been feeling lately boil to the surface.

She never cried, though. Despite her obvious fear all the little slut did was squirm and clench her eyes shut and struggle her body around in a vain attempt to dislodge him. And after his rage was spent he suddenly realized how nice and soft her little body felt beneath his, squirming to and fro. His eyes went down to her heaving chest, and her slight cleavage. It didn't take long before his cock began to stir. Breathing hard and cursing underneath his breath, the enraged father suddenly used his free hand to unzip his jeans and pull out his throbbing cock. It took only a few seconds before he began to probe it underneath his daughter's skirt in a frenzy, all the while cursing her for her perversity, for bringing such terrible porn into his house, for being such an awful, dirty slut.

"You're my slut, mine! Remember?" he hissed into the struggling girl's ear. "Not some nasty pervert-pedophile, you damn bitch, you damn whore!"

While he reprimanded her verbally he continued to probe his cock between her teenage legs. She wasn't wearing panties, which wasn't a surprise, and soon his cock-head found the glistening wet hole of his daughter's sex. When his member made contact with her cunt her struggle renewed. But on top of her, there between the coffee table and the recliner, she stood no chance of dislodging him. Soon he was able to angrily press his dick into her tight confines at which point something strange happened: she relaxed. Then she gasped. And then she began to laugh.

This infuriated him all the more. He hadn't fucked her since before sending her to his boss's house, and he was due, and she was trying to ruin it by laughing at him. At him, her own father! Had her laughter been meant to criticize the size of his cock? He knew he was well endowed, but was she implying that that fat-fuck's cock was bigger? Or was the teeny-tramp laughing at his hypocrisy?

He screamed for her to shut the fuck up. And then, with an angry and brutal thrust of his hips, George savagely stabbed himself deep inside his daughter's cunt as though his cock were a blade he could brutally murder her with.

She never stopped laughing, though. Instead she laughed harder as he violently raped his cock in and out of her hole. She wasn't fazed by any of this. Indeed, it was as though she was egging him on.

"Come on, Daddy, rape your daughter!" she began to laugh breathlessly, a smile on her pretty, if shaken, face. "That's so much better than watching illegal porn!"

The sarcastic comment had made him growl and suddenly begin to smack her, once, twice, three times across that gorgeous, tender face of hers. It didn't daze the red-headed brat one bit, though, nor did she lose her smile.

Finally, then, he settled into simply cursing at her. Cursing her, and fucking her, and pushing his free hand up under her tight blouse to grip and squeeze her braless tits. He tuned her words out as he rutted his cock in and out of her taut 14-year-old cunt. At that moment what he really needed was to get off, to release some steam, and the feeling of her damp, velvety innards squeezing his dick was doing just that. He became lost in the sensation as he fucked in and out of his daughter's developing womanhood.

When he came he purposefully came deep inside her, dumping his seed as far back in her womb as possible. It felt good to crush his hips against her when he did, to finally let go of her wrists and crush her growing breasts with them instead. He roared out in anger and relief for nearly a whole minute until he spilled the last of his seed.

George's rage shriveled away with his hard-on. After resting a moment on top of his daughter he had managed to stand up and collect himself and think. What had just happened? Even now George didn't know. And at that moment, looking down upon the form of his daughter with her creamy white legs splayed wide and his cum dribbling out from her pussy, he had been equally clueless. What had confused him the most, though, probably had nothing to do with her rattled, raped body. It was the look on the teenager's face: a knowing, almost smug, expression. The little twat had been looking down at him from the floor, defying him even after he'd raped her.

At that particular moment, though, the exhausted and spent man hadn't known what to do about it. Rather than speak he'd simply turned away and gone to the stairs. Before reaching the top he could have sworn he'd heard her voice coming from the living room. She had said one word.

"Hypocrite."

Her behavior only got worse the day after that.

He'd demanded that she return home straight after school but he had returned from work to an empty house. And after she'd finally returned later that night she'd been drunk, and belligerent, and totally defiant.

What was he to do? Hit her again? Hit her harder, really teach her a lesson? The thought had crossed his mind. Her winter break would be starting on Monday and she'd be off of school for a week. He could beat the shit out of her and she'd have a week to heal at home before going back.

Yet, somehow, George couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he had fucked the drunk girl again, making sure she was properly naked this time before bending her over the edge of her own bed and doing her from behind. She hadn't cared, she hadn't resisted, but she had done some more of that infernal laughing.

At work things were getting out of hand, too. That Friday he almost punched out one of his co-workers for making a lewd comment about some 14-year-old kid walking by the construction site.

"I have a daughter that age, asshole!" he'd growled.

The man, whom George had never liked anyway, had simply grinned. "Hey, Georgy, you know what they say! If there's turf on the field play ball!"

The comment had brought on laughter from some of the others, but George had snapped. Had his old friend Roy not grabbed him from behind and somehow pulled him back George would have knocked the guy's teeth out.