Date: Tue, 31 Jan 2017 01:26:26 -0600
From: Mister Dan <mcderosword@gmail.com>
Subject: A High School Slut's Business: Chapter 1

	Authors note: This one is mostly a smut based story, with lots of
sex scenes between teenaged males and adult males, as well as including
scenes of incest and non-consensual sex in origin. If this offends you, or
is illegal in any way, move along and pick another story or site. Anyways,
I hope you enjoy the story as much as I hope to enjoy it. I won't say no to
feedback and advice, but be forewarned, I have little patience, what others
call an inflated ego, and what can be misconstrued as a pretentious
attitude. Though don't be alarmed, while me ego may be easily bruised, I'm
not pretentious so I won't ever deliver sanctimonious diatribes in this
piece. However, if that sentence hasn't made it clear, I do reserve the
right to use as extensive for a vocabulary as I can, because while this is
user generated erotic novel site, I hate crap pieces of reading, no matter
how steamy you think the sex is. I feel anything poorly written causes a
break in the escapism feature of these pieces, and you either find it hard
or impossible to encase yourself in the fantasy worlds created within these
carefully crafted words, or to keep the illusion alive.

      Anyways, the gist is feedback is always welcomed as long as you're
not a moron. And donate to Nifty. Also, don't do this at home kids.

	Chapter 1: A Very Complex Origin, in Which I Learn a Lot More about
Myself Than I Ever Wanted to Know. Oh, and I Lose My Virginity.

	I guess my therapist, if I ever actually felt the need to see
one—so let's just suppose I have a therapist—which I have never felt
the need to, would say I have always been slightly unhinged or deranged
with deviant and perverted behaviors. Of course, I thought I was pretty
normal. I went out with chicks, as much as you can even really go out with
girls when you are in the eighth grade, spent most of my free time hanging
out with my friends playing video games or sports, and had absolutely no
clue what the adult world of sex entailed. What little knowledge I
cultivated was passed down be the ever so wise elder brothers of my
friends, from the internet, or from the almost unbelievable, absolutely not
made up, one hundred percent true detailing of personal accounts that came
spilling from my eager brotherhood of virginal fantasizers that failed to
live entirely in reality.

	As far as I knew, I was the only one amongst my friend group which
had even managed to actually get to base with a real life girl from
earth. Luckily for me, she also went to our school and was my girlfriend,
so there was indisputable proof as compared to my pal Garrett's girl who
lived in the "next town over." Mandy, my gorgeous girlfriend, was
definitely a hot piece of ass, by which I mean she was the most developed
girl of our grade and had not too bad facial features. By now, I don't even
really recall what she looked like, but the point is that the entire school
was jealous of me, which they should be for more reasons beyond who I was
dating and making out with publicly every chance I got to rub my friends
noses in it.

	I guess I was pretty decent looking (most of the girls said I was
the hottest guy in our grade, but come on, this was eighth grade—not
only is there not much competition, but they probably only said it because
I was considered Mr. Popular for dating Mandy and being super involved),
which to break it down, at the time I was among the tallest of my grade (I
think somewhere around 5'3" or 5'4"), kept my naturally red hair medium
cropped in a non-douchey, non-Bieber like style, had bright baby-blue eyes,
and had a decent musculature from both my years of soccer and swimming, and
my newly developed intense devotion to filling my body out "for sports."
Like I said, most of the girl's said I was hot, but looking back on it, I
think a more accurate descriptor would definitely be cute, and I got the
attention I deserved from it.

	Thankfully being more than just nice arm candy at the time, I was
the obvious choice of captain for soccer, was thought of highly enough to
be the vice-captain for swimming, managed to get voted President of the
Student Council in the first month of school, and was thought of as highly
intelligent by both teachers and peers alike. Some of this probably sounds
like the words of a braggart retelling a hyperbolized memory, but I can
assure you that while yeah, I was all those things, I nowhere near thought
of myself as intelligent as others claimed I was, and proven true I was as
I went on in life and found many people much smarter than me who were truly
geniuses.

	So hopefully I was able to paint a picture of myself at a crucial
point in my life, and explain how I managed to have on my arms the best
looking girl in our grade. Though, to finish off and be fair I guess I
should explain that Mandy was none of those things and honestly was only
popular because she was the only girl in our grade who really had to wear a
bra. So we were in love, at least as in love as two eighth graders could be
at a point where they're not even able to think with their dicks at the
time, and hung out all the time, making out in almost every spot possible
where there was a reasonable chance of not getting caught by an adult and
flaunting our status to our jealous peers.

	Therefore, it wasn't too surprising that I was out late on a Friday
taking Mandy out on a "date" that really only consisted of us taking a walk
in the park halfway between our two houses and making out in the bushes for
a few hours, where she adamantly refused to let me feel up her tits and
ass, or even to relieve some of my pressure by grinding against her.

	"Stop," Mandy moaned into mouth, removing my hand from where it had
slipped dangerously close to her bra.

	"Come on," I whined as if begging for my life, which at the time I
really did believe I would die if she didn't let me touch her or allow me
to get off. "Just one touch won't change anything."

	I put my hand back on the spot she had removed it from, and
continued towards the gentle mounds of the Promised Land. This time she
slapped my hands away, jerked away from me, and glared as if I was the
filthiest hobo she had ever laid eyes on, letting out a screech of utter
indignation. Finally giving up, understanding that it was her body and her
rights, I just let out a sigh of exhausted disappointment.

	"No means no," Mandy bit off each word, as if I was a fucking
toddler. "I think we just need to go home and cool off. It's late anyways,
and you're not worth getting a lecture from my parents."

	Throwing up my hands in defeat, I told her good night and we began
making our ways home, walking in opposite directions. Glancing at my phone,
I noticed I had missed about five calls from my dad, and there were almost
twice as many texts asking where I was.

	"Shit," I muttered to myself as I realized that not only was he
pissed, he was also probably off his ass piss drunk. Now, don't jump to any
conclusions, my dad wasn't an alcoholic, and he normally was a pleasant
person when wasted. Recently though, my parents have been going through a
very rough patch, resulting in my mother being out of the house most of the
time, and my dad's drunken personality took a slight dive for the worse,
still non-abusive, but not exactly anything pleasant enough to get him a
Mr. Sunshine of the year award. Resigned to getting my ass chewed out, I
began in earnest to make the trek home, if only to save my dad the worry of
wondering where I was past curfew.

	Luckily, the park wasn't too far from my house, and I arrived at my
doorstep in only a couple of minutes, nervous to take the berating I was
about to receive, especially since almost every light in the house on, and
I could see him through the living room window wearing a rut into the floor
with how much pacing he was undertaking. With a deep breath, I opened the
door and braced myself.

	"Jason David Allen, get your ass in hear!" My dad roared out
immediately from the living room.

	Trying to look as sheepish as possible, I gave an apologetic grin
as I looked at my outraged father, who looked to actually not be as drunk
as I had guessed.

	"Sorry dad, I—"

	"Don't you dare try and pull that innocent looking crap," He
bellowed before I could finish. "I don't care if you were fucking your way
through the entire cheerleading squad, when I fucking call you, you fucking
answer, and you don't fucking miss your curfew when you're only thirteen
fucking years old."

	I was just kind of stunned for a moment, while he wasn't as drunk
as I thought he would be, he was a lot more pissed off then I had ever seen
him. Never in my life had I even heard the man drop the F bomb, and he had
yelled it at me five times within a single minute. This was going to be a
lot more difficult to manage than I thought, and I was going to have to
face the strong possibility of very severe punishment from the man.

	"Sorry, I didn't even know it was on silent." I apologized as
profusely as I could to convey my sincerity. "I was with Mandy, and one
thing lead to another and we just got caught up in the moment."

	"In the moment?!?" He growled furiously. "It was more than a
fucking moment that you were lost in with that fucking slut. I've been
calling you for 3 fucking hours. I was just about to go call the fucking
police and the feds and mount up a search party. The only fucking reason I
didn't was because Mandy's parents couldn't fucking find the whore either."

	Again I was shocked, and almost made the dangerous mistake of
protesting against my dad's claims of Mandy being a slut. Luckily I was
smart enough to keep my mouth shut because I wasn't a fool who wanted to be
killed, or worse, grounded without cell phone access for eternity.

	"Sorry," I mumbled, just trying to roll over and take it, feeling
my own anger burn at the tirade he had unleashed about my girlfriend.

	"I don't even understand how you could even think it would be even
remotely responsible or possible that it would be fine for you to stay out
this late. Use your fucking head! I mean I already know the bimbo doesn't
have two brain cells to rub against each other, but did I raise a fucking
moron who can't even see pass a tiny set of tits?"

	So I know it's not exactly reasonable. Almost everything else he
had said at this point really was grounds for me to snap. But for reasons I
still cannot comprehend, his deservedly accurate, but to me belittling,
representation of Mandy's breasts were what made go off on him.

	"Fucking lay off her!" I shouted back, nearly matching his volume
with my own cracking voice. "So I forgot to look at my phone for a few
hours. And forgive me for not wanting to be in this empty house which is a
huge fucking reminder that you and mom are going through shit that she
doesn't want to deal with. And for the record, Mandy is not fucking slut! I
almost fucking wish she was! We made out for two fucking hours, and she
didn't allow me to touch anything or get me off! So no! She's not a fucking
whore, so go stuff a dick in your face, asshole!"

	Needless to say, as soon as I had finished delivering that
delightfully well-articulated piece of oration, I quickly clammed up as my
dad's face got redder and redder. I swear to god I could literally see the
beginning of steam coming out his ears, he was that red and that angry.

	"Dad," I began after a moment of shell shocked silence, beginning
to back track and salvage the situation. "I didn't mean to—"

	"Oh I think you knew what you were fucking doing boy." He said
bitterly, stalking closer to me not unlike how a tiger goes after its
prey. "You thought you had the right to fucking talk back and defend
yourself. But let's get one thing straight, boy. This ain't no court of
law, and you don't have any fucking rights right now."

	With that he roughly grabbed me and began dragging me to my room up
the stairs, with a grip so solid, I'm pretty sure he was beginning to
bruise the bone. He nearly kicked down my door, and threw me on my bed. In
what seemed like a seamless sequence of moves, he flipped me onto my front,
slipped off his belt, used it to secure both my hands to a bar in the
headboard, and ripped off my pants and underwear. I was positive he was
about to spank me, and within moments he proved me right, delivering over a
dozen loud smacks in quick and brutal succession, making my ass feel
absolutely raw. Hoping it was over, I let out a sob in thanks, sniveling
snot like a bastard crybaby at this point.

	"You think you can fucking think with your underdeveloped prick,
boy!" He chastised, still hovering in his position kneeling between my
legs. "You don't even have enough of a cock to begin to think with! Let me
show you how a real man thinks with his dick you pansy ass pussy. Stop your
fucking crying!"

	I was really confused at his words, but I knew enough to be really
afraid at that point and began struggling with the belt that held my
hands. My dad almost immediately spanked my ass five more times, stopping
the desperate escape attempt. Grabbing my hair, he roughly jerked my head
back so he could whisper in my ear.

	"Stop your fucking squirming boy, and take your fucking punishment
like a man!"

	I shivered at the words, and am ashamed to admit I let out more
than a few sobs at his ominous threat. I watched, dazed as he grabbed the
lotion I kept by my bed to jerk off with, and began pouring a generous
amount of it onto his hands. I quickly figured out what he needed it for
though when he jabbed a finger in my exposed ass, and began spreading the
lotion there.

	"Yeah, I knew you would have a fine, tight ass." He crooned as he
continued to molest me to the backdrop of my desperate howls of protest and
even harder sobbing.

	What really confused me was how good it felt. Now, don't get me
wrong, it wasn't the circumstance that was getting me off, it was just that
apparently my ass was so sensitive to this kind of ministration that my
body was beginning to not care that I was essentially being raped. I really
tried to hold in the groans of pleasure that began to build up as one
finger became two, and two became three, as he continued to finger some
hidden sweet spot in my ass.

	"Such a beautiful fucking ass. Just like your bitch mom's." My dad
growled lustily as he began to lose his pants and grease the beast he
revealed.

	My eyes grew wide at what looked like a behemoth to me at the time,
a thick piece of meat that was easily seven and a half inches. My fear
began to rise again, and I renewed the previously abandoned futile
struggle.

	"No daddy!" I pleaded in a shrill voice that sounded unnatural to
me. "Please don't stick that in me, it won't fit! It'll kill me!"

	I really believed it, and I was sweating balls and even the idea of
taking something like that in what I had previously thought was an exit
only chute.

	"Don't be absurd," he said, giving me a brief moment of relief. "Of
course sluts like you can take it!"

	With that he eased it in against all my protests and attempts to
dislodge him. I could feel his balls against me and the itchy feeling of
his pubic hair against my butt as he held his full length in me, giving me
a few merciful moments to adjust and get used to his size and the
intrusion. Apparently, after a couple of minutes he figured I had had
enough time I began sliding in and out of my ass.

	"Oh fuck does that ass feel good" He half moaned half growled as he
plowed into me on a particularly hard thrust. "I just fucking knew your
slutty ass was going to feel the fucking best. Much better than that
bitches."

	I guess I was a little flattered that he thought my ass was better
than the woman who gave birth to me, and I did have to admit the man knew
how to fuck because he was making me feel all sort of feels with his dick
sawing in and out of me. It felt a lot fucking better than jacking off, and
had to fight off groaning or pushing into it to avoid giving him the
satisfaction of realizing I was enjoying it. The most shocking thing
though, was the jolt I kept getting every time he called me a slut. It was
like that word was hardwired to my dick, which was in full blown erection
mode, and if the wet feeling was anything to judge by, was leaking like a
faucet.

	As my dad continued to pound into me, getting a little more rough
as time went on, the feelings kept on getting better, until I no longer
cared that I had been forced into it, and only want the feelings to never
end. I was really getting into it, and probably let out a few moans and
groans of pleasure for him to hear, and it was most likely not that hard to
see my ass beginning to meet his thrusts. My dad just started to laugh at
that, and kept up the slutty name calling, which if anything was driving me
to get even more into it.

	Unfortunately, as all good things do, the session was quickly
approaching an end. At the time I was too inexperienced to accurately judge
it, but even I could tell that he was getting close with his short labored
breaths and increasingly needy thrusts. But before he could get his
release, I was desperate to get my own, and wiggled my ass to drive the
wonderful feeling I was getting over the edge. I must have maneuvered into
a particularly good sweet spot, because only a couple thrusts later I was
having an orgasm greater than any I had ever had jacking off, and
absolutely sprayed my load onto my chest and bed.

	As my ass clenched repeatedly in response to the amazing feelings
coming from my ass as I blew, it must have overstimulated my dad, because
he absolutely lost it not even a second later, spilling the product of his
sin into my guts, letting out an almost inhuman howl as he did so. After he
finished, he collapsed onto my back, not even bothering to pull out, gently
nipping at the nape of my neck as he grinded into me. He fumbled with the
belts holding my hands for a moment, freeing me before he promptly rolled
off me and literally started snoring. Not even making this up, he
legitimately fell asleep and started snoring as soon as he was done.

	I got up from the bed, rubbing my sore wrists as I mulled over
everything that had just happened. I was definitely confused and I really
needed to think, so I progressed to leave the room, turning off the light
as I left, and wandered into the kitchen for a late night snack and
something to drink, not even bothering to don some clothes. Satisfied, I
sat on a couch in the living room, collecting my thoughts and meditating on
what I should do. I mean, I enjoyed it, which I never thought possible, but
the man did technically rape me. Then again, he was my dad, and I honestly
didn't even really care that he did that to me. In some ways I felt
grateful, he had opened up a whole new world of possibilities to me I had
never even considered. In fact, I had enjoyed it so much, I was certain I
could never quit. Whatever attraction I had felt for the members of the
fairer sex were demolished at this point, and I just didn't care. All I
wanted was to be daddy's little slut.

	Now I know how this sounds, and no, my dad didn't break me and I
didn't lose my grip on reality. Like I started off saying, I think I was
always a little off, and was just able to act normal enough that people
hadn't realized that I didn't feel the full range of emotions or as
strongly as most people did. I just honestly enjoyed being called a slut,
thoroughly enjoyed having my ass plowed, didn't think my dad looked half
bad, and he could potentially be an endless source of cock.

	Continuing to mull it over for another half hour, I grinned as a
plan began taking shape in my head. Committed to what I was going to do, I
made my way upstairs, turning off all the lights my dad had previously left
turned on before slipping into bed next to my dad, excited for the next day
and what it would bring.

	End note I: It is sad that I misspelled Bieber and my word
processor had the correct spelling in its database. God I hate that twerp.

	End note II: So I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of my
first story on here. Literally this practically wrote itself. I have
another story I am working on bringing onto here, but I only have half as
much and have worked on it maybe four times as long. Anyways, because I
wrote it so fast, I didn't really feel like editing, so if y'all find any
mistakes let me know and I'll correct it in my personal files, just for
posterity's sake. And if anyone would want to help me edit future chapters,
just let me know, and I'll get into contact with you. I guess it wouldn't
be right if I didn't finish by saying please give feedback, and considering
donating to Nifty.