The Oubliette ~ beneath Club PG (Closed)

[fuckmeat]

Club PG

http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1342/1423357968_3fda210724.jpg

In the private, staff area on the ground floor of Club PG there is a heavy iron grate set into the floor. A strong man could lift it and drop downwards to see what lurks there.

Such a man would find a stone walled corridor, leading forwards and to the right, to a pastel pink door made of reinforced steel and bearing a silent, electronic coded lock. Through that door lies...

http://disneyexclusiveonline.com/images/DSPrincessBedRS.jpg

A beautiful little girl's bedroom. A suite of rooms in fact. Everything is in various shades of pink and purple.

There is everything a little princess could want, lots of outfits and dressing up clothes plus a blanket box full of special things that she will swiftly learn never ever to open herself. References to Disney's Beauty And The Beast are everywhere.

The bed has an occupant.

http://lizvicioussite.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/10/liz-vicious-sexy-in-bed.jpg

If she wasn't eighteen she wouldn't be here but she looks younger, far younger than her years. She wears a cute little Disney night dress that falls to her knees and a bandage around her head, along with some slight bruising to her body that indicates a struggle. Her long dark red hair fans across the pillow, her breathing deep and even. Her face has been cleansed of make-up.

The head trauma was necessary, as were the drugs currently keeping her sedated. Her subconscious dreamland is haunted by a masked attacker. When she wakes it will swiftly become evident that the pretty little thing now has amnesia. She doesn't know her name or anything about her life up until this point. She does not know how old she is. She doesn't know that this pretty bedroom is the last place she should be, nor does she know it lies in the bowels of a vicious gangster's sordid seat of power.

Her physical innocence has been confirmed. Everything is now in place for whenever her new guardian should choose to claim her.​

Just to be clear, the girl pictured is Liz Vicious, a well known goth pornstar who is most definitely over eighteen.

 

[The_PG]

As I wander down into the basement and through the various underbellies of my Club; my mind wanders along a totally different pathway. How did I get here? Not, where I am or where I am going (to her room) but rather how did I become such a person. Is it that I love her? No, because if I did our meeting would be much, much different. But then again... I love everything about her. The utter cuteness. Her complete innocence. I have only known her for such a short period of time, but I feel as if I know every fiber of her being. Well, the important ones anyways. Who the fuck cares what her favorite color is? I know what makes her tick and what makes her angry, what scares her, and what is going to turn her into my princess. My little princess. Sick fuck. I laugh and move further into the shadows, hiding from those two words without even knowing it.

As I pull of the grate, I am confronted with the question once again.

How did I get here?

I am a sick fuck. I've destroyed people with tools, my hands, and even just my words. Brought their lives to an end, and their bodies to decay. Yet, for the first time in some many number of months I don't want to do this. Yes, I want her to cry, and maybe even scream. But mostly I just want her.... Attached. To me. The tight little hugs, I want her to cry into my shoulder, hug my arm, and paw at my chest when she can't get what she wants. Get a kitten? I hate fucking cats and they can't suck my cock, because that is what else I want. After the babying and cooing, she's going to be stuck on my dick getting her milk. Not like a whore, sucking for sustenance, but like a fat person with an extra large soda. She wants it sweet and quick, so she can savor it. Or she will, I hope.

Hope... When have I ever hoped? Never.

"Open," The door responds to my command and after scanning my retina it opens for me soundlessly, and closes with equal noise. None.

I am dressed in a warm robe that is white and embroidered with the same scrolling text as hers. Mine says Daddy. Hers says Little Princess, of course. It's hanging on hooks next to the bed.

When i see her face my cock lurches as normal, but what is unusual is that my heart tingles as well. It feels larger and stronger, just like my cock, but in a completely innocent an non-sexual way. I want to hug her, protect her, kiss her, and then maybe... Possibly, make love to her. It's different. I'm different. I know it, and to be honest I'm not quite sure if I like it yet. I know I don't hate it... So I sit on the edge of the bed, my back my princess, and begin reading a paper. My mind drifts to what I've done to get her here... Erasing her family from the face of the earth was the hardest part. I killed them, sick fuck that I am, and made her watch. Being behind a chilling mask was not necessary, but it kept any familiarity of me from her mind. Who knows? Perhaps the connection would have been too strong to forget even with the powerful blow and drugs she had been given. Now that she is here, sleeping peacefully, I almost regret what I have done. She is such an angel, such a beautiful princess... I lightly touch her ear; brushing her fiery red hair behind it before turning back to my paper. Reading as I wait for her to wake up...

 

[fuckmeat]

Little fists clutch at the bedclothes as a masked assailant dominates her slumber. There is a dull pain behind her left temple, throbbing in time to her gradually accelerating heartbeat. She turns over, the covers tugging because someone is sat on them. It is this more than anything else that compels her to fight her way through the chemically induced fog and open her eyes, rubbing them with her knuckles.

The room is... wrong... too bright and too pink. It's... a small child's room and totally unfamiliar. For a crazy moment that lasts too long she wonders whether she's still asleep. Her head aches something fierce and not just because of the lump on her temple. She inspects it gingerly with her fingertips. A rustle of paper reminds her why she was so determined to regain consciousness in the first place. She turns over once more to encounter a total stranger.

 

[The_PG]

I feel movement, but think it is just tossing and turning inside of her sleep. I'm wrong, and look over. Immediately a smile crosses my features; it is warm, and slightly pained. There is no pretense in either of the feelings, I'm glad to see her awake, and once again not currently enjoying the fact that I've been so cruel to her. How could I, when she is that cute? Like a little puppy waking from it's first nap, or better yet a baby. I put the paper down and gingerly take her hand.

"Glad to see you wake up, baby... You took a really long nap."

Like in the middle of a dream, she won't have any idea how she got there or what she is doing. Yet, she should know some basic facts about how the world works and while specific details (names, birthdays, and people) she might not remember certain general things such as faces, likes, dislikes, and emotions should still be common enough for her to accept. Little do I know this, to me she is just another in a long line of failed attempts to make my babydoll. I don't move on her yet, even though i could just simply eat her alive at this particular moment; with the sleep in her eyes and her hair all tussled.

"It's morning time... Rise and shine sweety cakes!"

I lean over and give her a gentle kiss. This startles her at first, but perhaps it would startle anyone. I am waiting for the first outburst, the first lashing out, crying, screaming, something has got to come from this new... Toy. My eyes blink as she does none of it, but rather stares at me like I am brand new to her. My eyes narrow and I lean over. She doesn't flinch, but simply draws back with a blank stare on her face.

"What is your name?" I ask softly, a hand of mine covering her much smaller and more delicate one.

 

[fuckmeat]

The voice is unfamiliar, deep and masculine. She pulls her hands from her eyes to see the blurred face of a man with dark blonde hair. Her memory comes up blank.

"It's morning time... Rise and shine sweety cakes!"

The looming shape swoops down and kisses her cheek, making her flinch and gasp. As he pulls away she sees him clearly for the first time and still she has no idea who he is. Her eyes widen in total bewilderment, her bottom lip falling unconsciously. Her confusion crystallises into naked fear, fear that bleeds into her gaze as the man continues to smile at her. Not knowing where she is or who she's with is definitely a bad thing. More crucially, not knowing who she is or where she should be is an infinitely worse thing. She regards her upraised hand as though she's never seen that before either. Red hair spilled down over her shoulders but with mounting blind panic, she fails to picture the contours of her own face.

"What is your name?" His hand closes over her small one. She flinches away from contact with him, his touch catalysing her into taking action.

She scrambles upwards into a sitting position, her back to the headboard, eyes roaming the room as though she doesn't quite believe in its existence at all. She comes back inexorably to the man in front of her and belatedly recall his question. She starts to hyperventilate, knees drawn protectively to her chest as she realises that she cannot answer him. She doesn't know. Her temple throbs painfully and she takes the hint, shifting her focus instead onto the things she does want to know.

"Where am I? What the hell am I doing here?"

She looks down at the nightdress she wears and fails to recognise that either. Whoever she is, she knows that she loathes pink, that this is not hers, that she is not a... child. A wild urge to rip the garment from her body rushes through her but she suppresses it, staring at the man defiantly now, demanding answers. She would be at the door by now if she thought her legs would carry her that far. She swallows hard as the grogginess and nausea wash over her. What the fuck has this guy done to her?

 

[The_PG]

Her inability to answer the simple questions startles me and I am not easily startled, but the only reason I am is that it's easy to read her entirely blank face as it is quickly overcome by confusion and fear. It's not that she won't tell me, it's that she can't, and that is startling for me just as much for her. I wonder what my minions have done, but don't quite comprehend that they might have hit her on the head harder then I imagined on purpose for they are minions, and should be incapable of their own thoughts. As she shrinks away from me I'm reminded once again of how strange an even this is for me as I feel a painful lurch in my chest, and my mind screams, 'Don't go away!' Yet, my ass is firmly planted as I try to figure out what the hell is going on. My eyes narrow, but kindly as she suddenly demands from me:

"Where am I? What the hell am I doing here?"

"You are... In your new room." That's the easy answer, and it doesn't seem to put her off, "It is... Your new life."

I understand it is a cryptic answer, and only confuses her more, but that is the best way to put it. I'm not going to explain it all to her, and right now I am far more concerned with her inability to tell me her own name. Which she seems to have decided to ignore for now. Her eyes go around the room again, but they settle on me again rather quickly, and I can see the question before it's formed on her lips, let alone out of her mouth.

"I am your Daddy..." My mouth quickly becomes dry, and in order to cover this up I turn and reach for a remote, then flick on the TV, one of my minions is a genius with video and has taken one of her home videos, and spliced me into it as she runs up to my slightly younger looking form and screams, "Daddy!" Before leaping into my arms. There is more playfulness, but I don't watch the video at all. Instead I watch her eyes as she tries to comprehend and accept this. As the video ends, I mute the television as the clip replays. Reaching out, I lightly place a hand on top of her knee.

"Your name is Julie, and you are my little princess..." I smile, hopefully as I raise my eyebrows and ask her if she can trust me in this little bit.

 

[fuckmeat]

I recognise the girl in the videoclip with a rush of certainty. That is me. That is what I look like. I have no recollection of running into this man's arms but then, unbeknown to me, the evidence before me is false. Worse than that, it's a mix of false and true, the truth of my childhood grafted onto this sick fuck's fantasy.

But this man... well he's in his twenties. I can't possibly be his daughter. I'm at least... well, I'm definitely too old to be his kid. I'm certain of that... right?

But no. The only 'certainty' I have is that I was that kid and that I ran into that man's arms. Everything else... everything else I'm unsure of. It doesn't occur to me to doubt the integrity of the videoclip. Instead I doubt the integrity of my own mind. Were I to be taken to actual places of my actual childhood, I might well fill in the blanks correctly but that's not going to happen. He touches my knee and I let him. I seem to be in no immediate danger from him. He is concerned about me.

Your name is Julie, and you are my little princess..."

Julie.

Julie?

Really?

I pronounce the name slowly, hoping for it to feel familiar when I do so but no... there is nothing. My head still hurts and I assume that's the cause of my confusion, not the man smiling gently at me. I look at him and repeat the word 'daddy' in my head but nothing about him is familiar. I can't make myself say it, it feels too wrong.

"What do you mean... a new life? What happened to me?"

There's no trust in the questions but then there's no open hostility either.

 

[The_PG]

I guess there really is no avoiding it, no matter how hard I wish I could simply program her to be a loving little girl with the push of a button there is no button save for the ones that I already know how to push. They are hard buttons to push though, especially for me right now, for some reason. I give a soft sigh, the realization slowly aiding in destroying this... Weakness, inside of me. I give her knee a pat, and then a gentle rub. I open my mouth, and then close it as our eyes meet. Maybe there is a way? She knows absolutely nothing about what occurred to her, perhaps... It would be tricky, and it's not the way I do thing. I always tell the truth in the end, the hard truth, because living a lie is impossible to do... Only... In her case, it would not be a lie. Anything I say could become truth eventually. Unless, she is simply playing me for a fool and really remembers. My mouth closes and I rub my chin, realizing suddenly that I need to shave, and giving a small smile at the simple human thought.

"You've come here for a new life. You've come to live as my princess and be my little girl."

I've decided against lying, and creating a past that is untrue. There is no reason to focus on the past whether she remembers it or not. The future, is all that really matters to me, one way or another she will become my little girl. Sucking on her thumb, my dick, and giving me all the cute little niceties that I desire while I lavish her with anything a Daddy's girl could ever want.

"What happened to you really doesn't matter Julie... You are here now, and the difficult journey that brought you here is over. You really don't know do you? How much... How much you love me?"

A little bit of acting is needed here, and I let my eyes fall to the sheets of the bed; hurt. Then slowly I look back up, and my eyes are slightly moistened. I immediately see the softness creeping into the edge of your gaze. I haven't convinced you of anything, except that I really do care about you, and that more than anything else is the truth. How, exactly, i care about you is another matter entirely. I'm just glad that you understand it is the truth. I really do care about you. In fact.

"How much I love you?"

 

[fuckmeat]

The more sordid implications about him telling me I came here to be his little girl pass me by completely. Instead I look at the little girl on the TV screen and come to the conclusion that you must be my biological father and that you haven't been in my life for a long time. That would partly explain why I don't remember you, why this bedroom is all wrong, obviously put together by a clueless and mostly absent father rather than a teenage girl. It also explains why you're suddenly so hurt by my bewilderment and distrust. The distrust deepens however, as you blatantly avoid discussing how I got head trauma. You seem sincere but there's just too much that I still don't get.

I look up into your wet eyes and give a deep shrug, exhaling heavily.

"I'm sorry. I don't know you. I don't remember that." I gesture at the TV. "I don't... " I start crying now as I finally make the admission, fat tears that roll down to my chin unimpeded as I hug my knees. "I don't remember anything."

I touch my bandaged head again, feeling stitches beneath the gauze.

"What happened to me? How did I get hurt?"

My eyes dart to the door. It occurs to me that the most likely reason for my head injury is sat in front of me and therefore, whatever you tell me could well be bullshit but I want to hear and asses that bullshit nonetheless. I'm feeling stronger and more alert, able to make a run for it to the street and yell for help if I don't like or believe what I hear.

 

[The_PG]

As she cries I can't help but move closer. The desire to hug her close, and brush the locks of red hair behind her ear, and then kiss those slim, wet, trembling lips would normally make me hard. Right now it is just melting me however. How did she get hurt? I myself want to know the answer to this right now. What the fuck did my minions do to her that made her forget fucking everything. This was not how it was supposed to go, now I've got to think on my feet and figure something out. Strangely, I'm drawn to the truth once again. If it works, she'll be in my arms, hugging me and crying so hard I'll probably cum right then and there. I look down, and speak in the softest, and most sincere voice I've ever used with you before.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

I glance up, and get a nod. So I take a deep breath and begin.

"This is what I know from the police report. There was a man with a mask, he killed everyone, and thought he'd killed you too. He wanted... He wanted your step-fathers car, your mothers purse, and... You. Your step-dad, he fought long enough for the police to scare off the masked man, but by the time the ambulance arrived they were... Dead."

I breathe lightly. It is so very close to the truth I'm wondering if it won't just unlock all of her memories, and what that all will entail. I made sure to say step-father, because even before now I always pictured myself as your real father. Whether it's true or not, and even though I have no clue that you were already thinking something close to the fact.

"I'm so sorry baby..." I whisper, as I look up and try to read your entirely too cute, and innocent little face.

 

[fuckmeat]

I cry harder but it's more for myself than the mother I can't recall. It's because I can't remember her that it hurts so much. I hug my knees even tighter and bury my face in them, trying to blot everything out. I believe you. Not just because of the assumptions I've made but because of the masked man in my dreams. I won't look at you, I don't want to look at you again and feel nothing.

 

[The_PG]

The tears are like a starter gun. I know it's okay to move closer now and I do so, scooting down the bed and wrapping your small frame into my much larger one. You're in such a small ball, and so tightly wound it's easy for me to simply pick you up and place you on my lap; so that your side rests against my chest and your head is on my shoulder. I can tell you don't remember. There would have been a pause as your entire life flashed before your eyes, no, this is something much more here and now. Maybe she remember something, a bit of something, and it scared her? I don't know, and I'm suddenly frustrated by not knowing. I kiss the top of your head softly, avoiding the bandage, and hug you tightly.

"Do you want some medicine? It might help..." I whisper softly, wishing I could just be the medicine, but knowing that someone hit you way too fucking hard for that. There is going to be a corpse in my dumpster tonight, that I can promise, and it wont be yours.

 

[fuckmeat]

I shake my head, depositing tears onto your chest as I do so.

"I only just woke up. And I was having the most terrible dream." I purse my lips and reconsider somewhat. "Can you give me something that will stop the nightmares?"

One arm goes around your chest, clinging to you helplessly. Again I try and force my mind backwards, trying to remember. A blinding pain winds me and my eyelids flutter and spasm, eyes rolling back as I slip dangerously close to a convulsion, trembling in your lap until it passes, my breathing guttural and laboured.

"It-t-t hurts... when I try to remem-ememem..." I take a breath to calm myself and try again, speaking with exaggerated slowness. "Remember."

All of a sudden I feel exhausted once more and this time I yield to it. Your heartbeat against my ear lulls me into what can best be described as a fitful doze. Unshed tears hang on my eyelashes and my small hand grips your ribage too tightly, desperate for you to be the one person I can rely on... my daddy. The word falls contentedly from my lips as I snuggle into your chest, my body curled tightly into your warmth and strength as though you can protect me from the whole world.

"Daddy."

Just a few minutes later though, my brow puckers, my hand lifting as though to shield myself. All I can see is the masked man. I can hear his crazy laughter and the sound of a blade plunging bone deep into flesh. He turns on me... raises his bloody hand and brings the knife's handle crashing down onto my head, one corner of the base connecting with my temple. I awaken with a violent jolt, my fingernails digging into your robe. I look up into your concerned face with wet, haunted eyes.

"Don't let me sleep again." I whisper, as though the evil masked man might overhear.

 

[The_PG]

I can't quite tell what is making me more turned on, if it's the fear in your eyes or the sudden and utter trust you place upon me. Not to mention the title you've quickly come to accept. A slight shiver races up and down my spine, and my cock grows. However, it does not become hard; this you would have noticed. It only become full of blood, and swells into a larger, but still soft and pliable shape. Looking down into your wet eyes I purse my lips and give a warm smile as I slowly rock you back and forth.

"Shhh... Sh, shhhh... Hush little baby, Daddy is here."

I kiss your blank and innocent looking forehead, then slowly tilt to place your head back on your pillow, when I go to reach for the medicine your tiny fists still haven't let go. I smile and hold them as I stretch out and take the medication. It is a powerful sleeping pill, and I give you a large dosage. Many hours of comforting, warm sleep will fill your night, and when the drug wears off you will no longer be tired and quickly wake up I am sure. By then I should be back... Should... I lay next to you, waiting for the medicine to take effect, my hand still gripped tightly by yours. Carefully I brush a piece of your red locks behind your ear, and kiss the tiny appendage; brushing my tongue over the entrance to hear you giggle or say something besides the mostly morbid and frightened words that have come from your mouth.

"You're soo ticklish!" I tease, lightly prodding your ribs as you sleepily push my hand away, "What's wrong? Sleepy?"

Before I know it you are asleep, and before Tony; the henchmen who actually hit you, knows it he is face down on my desk. It's pure blackness is the only thing I have ever found to match my soul. Light is simply consumed by the old, varnished wood, and the brightly polished black leather chair is a stark contrast to the table. Along with the black marble tile, stained many a place by deep crimson. I've stabbed his right arm four times, with four of my favorite K-Bar military style knives. Twice in his palm, and twice in his forearm between the two bones; the names of which I've forgotten. Strangely I'm taking no pleasure from this torture save for one thing, but it is not the normal sadistic pleasure I normally take from destroying a human life. In fact it is entirely foreign to me. There is nothing I need to say, and I continue with my work, my plan, my mission, my goal, without a twinge of conscious or shred of humanity.

First I inject him with adrenaline, and then I brake his collarbone; after removing all four knives from his arm. The adrenaline will keep him alive, and by crushing his collarbone with a two pound hammer, I extinguish any hope he had of passing out due to pain. Destroying whatever threshold he may have had.

The very next thing I do is cut off his ears, without a knife or blade. In fact, it's really more of a ripping action with a pair of pliers. Then I use an acetylene torch to close up all of the wounds I've inflicted so far, and it works so well that I melt solder onto his lips to stop his fucking screaming. Then I take out his eyes. Not with a knife, or the torch, but a spoon. I feed him the jelly, but he's delirious at this point. In the end he goes up onto the roof with me, and using the same piece of iron he used on you (as opposed to lead, which wouldn't have actually damaged my most precious piece of flesh!) I yell, "FOUR!" And catch him right in the nuts with it. He stumbles as his balls burst, and falls off of the tower and into the dumpster. Down below something of a raver screams happily, and I take a deep breath. That feeling I felt that was so different?

Revenge.

Sweet, and salty. Beautiful, and delicious. I've never tasted it before... I love it.

When you wake I've rested, cleaned, and changed. I'm sitting in the same robe, reading the same newspaper, but there is something different. My smile. It's more... Real. I guess I just hadn't realized how real this completely fake relationship was, but it is very real. I want to be your daddy, and now I have this feeling that I need it.

"Morning baby, hungry?" I've brought breakfast, movies, and magazines down for you; deciding you should get caught up in the world a bit. It's everything a teenager would want. At least I hope. I fold the paper and carry over a tray, "Careful. The eggs are hot."

 

[fuckmeat]

I take the medicine obediently, desperate to rid the inside of my skull of the masked attacker and everything he represents. The drugs works fast on my empty stomach and my eyes become heavy lidded, looking up at you lazily. On a different kind of girl it would look like lust or satiation but my eyes have no decadent, knowing gleam. I raise a hand half-heartedly to swat you away from my ear but the tickle to my ribs makes me double up, clamping my upper arms to my sides and suddenly laughing so hard that I barely make any sound at all. Not even that stimulus slows my descent into dreamland however and I pass out exactly where I lay; curled tightly on my side.

This time I sleep peacefully and dreamlessly. It only feels like a moment later when I waken gradually to the sound of your gently rustling newspaper but I feel very different; refreshed and somewhat healed. The pain in my temple has abated and I deliberately do not force my mind to look backwards, seeking answers that it simply doesn't have. I focus instead on the man sat before me. For all I know he could have been there all night, just in case I woke up crying. It's a very comforting notion to a girl as fundamentally confused as I am; that he has kept watch over me... my daddy.

I accept the tray with a shy smile. I can remember everything that passed between us the last time I woke up and that's reassuring. I am making and retaining new memories. I remember how upset he was when I failed to recognise him.

"Careful. The eggs are hot."

If he had asked me whether I was hungry I would have said no but as soon as I smell the food, my body begs to differ. A loud grumble emanates from beneath my bedcovers and I blush, astounded that such a ravenous sound could have been made by my flat little tummy. I attack the eggs and OJ with a healthy appetite. Flipping through the paper, I'm surprised and pleased to see that I recognise the celebrities and politicians. I have a basic knowledge about the world and about current events. The gadgets and products featured are not mysteries to me. The only door in my head that appears to be closed to me is the one behind which my own life experiences lie. It's frustrating in the extreme.

I move onto the magazines but the articles there about popstars, teen-fashion, dating and so on seem incredibly... juvenile. I want to ask my father about myself but now doesn't feel like the right time. I know it'll upset him to discover that I don't know things like how old I am or what his Christian name is... what our surname is for that matter. There are too many questions. I am not going to do this right now.

After sitting upright for maybe half an hour, eating and reading, my head starts to throb and my eyes get tired. Dad and I have exchanged nothing more than the most circumspect pleasantries. I lift my head from the magazine and smile at him but he an see that I'm in pain.

"Um... do you have any painkillers I can take? My head's pounding again. When do I have these stitches taken out?"

He rises, his eyes concerned. I follow his progress across the room but he moves out of my field of vision. My eyes won't keep up with him. The stench of burning wood fills my nostrils and a weird, metallic taste fills my mouth. Blood! My mouth is bleeding!

It's the last coherent thought I have before I slump forwards onto the magazine in my lap. I feel my limbs start to twitch, a gush of wetness between my legs as I arch and become rigid. Then everything goes dark and my body goes into a seizure.

 

[The_PG]

I'm heading for some light pain-killers, not because of my general sadism, but simply because I want you to remain awake. As pathetically not entertaining as this would seem to certain people who know my dark side a bit better, I really am enjoying the simple things. Your smile, the gentle caress of blush as it sprinkles across your cheeks when your belly decided that it did want food; naow! It's making me hard in away that I will be able to store until later on tonight when I find a piece of fuckmeat that is actually ready for my swollen dick. She, clearly is not. This I've decided even before the sudden onset of pain, and even faster degradation into passing out.

I stop my step just as my heart stops, and quickly backtrack to her prone form.

I check for breathing, and find it. I check for a pulse, and also find it. Thought faintly, and just to be sure I push two fingers into the inside of her thigh. To my surprise it is wet. I sniff and grimace a little it's either a very light amount of piss, or slightly pissy smelling juice. Either way it helps me to realize that she has just experienced some sort of spasm. That is the best word I can come up with until I talk to the doctor on the phone and he mentions the word seizure. That is when I realize what I've seen.

As I wait for the doctor to come here and check her out, I can't help myself. I remove the nightie and panties she's been wearing and change them with a fresh set of both. The panties I sniff and decide quickly that it was not piss, but some other juice. Could she have cum? The thought, along with the smell, leaves me dreaming for a moment before the doctor arrives and hurriedly is ushered into the room by one of my more gentle handed (and thus, alive) henchmen. I have him check her thoroughly, having bought much of the same equipment that most hospitals possess, enough at least for him to do his job this time. He wants to run more tests, of course. At the hospital, and after thinking I decide it's worth it. But we'll have to plan things out much more carefully.

For now he prescribes anti-seizure medication and says I should keep her doped up. Like that is going to happen.

I give her the anti-seizure medication, but hold off on any painkillers aside from 800mg of Advil, for now.

When she wakes up I'm there, carefully watching her face, and when she looks questioningly at me I smile back and lightly touch her chin.

"You had a seizure, the doctor has already come and seen you. He's given you these... I gave you some Advil too, how do you feel? You..." I give a little, slightly nervous grin, "Scared me." Then I scoot closer, and wrap you in a hug. My hand running up and down your arm as I listen for an answer, and say little more.

 

[fuckmeat]

I'm groggy and disoriented once more. I get a little teary too, scared that I had a fit like that. I accept the hug and nuzzle into your chest, desperate for reassurance. I cast my eyes around the room but the doctor must have gone. I feel like I've been asleep for a long time. My head isn't throbbing with pain right now though, which is an improvement.

"So what's wrong with me?" I ask quietly, fearing the worst.

 

[The_PG]

"He thinks it is related to the accident, but wants to run more tests. For now these will keep it from happening again." The small cuteness that is nestled next to me helps me get over my fear. Which is probably worse then hers at this point. I'm holding her so close; a hand on her belly, and one interlaced in her fingers that were once on my chest. I sink myself in the bed, sliding my feed over the end of it, until we are eye level. Smiling, I lean across the distance between us and kiss her. Right next to the lips, but certainly not anywhere on them. I almost catch her lips moving for mind, but we both stop ourselves at the last second. Neither acknowledge it. Though my eyes do shine with the promise it brings for much later. It's more of a flicker thought. Since I'm much more worried about her and her sudden condition. I want to find out more about it, and soon...

"I think we'll take you to the doctors in a little bit. Once you're sure you are feeling well... How about I give you a bath?" I ask innocently, wondering if acting like it's perfectly normal will make you believe it is, but even if you don't I'm prepared for that one too.

 

[fuckmeat]

Once dad joins me on the bed and kisses me, I start to feel claustrophobic. He's still a stranger to me and while I do believe he's my daddy and I do trust him, the fact he's still not familiar to me awakens reflexes in me that make me seek distance. I remove my interlocked fingers from his and move as far across the bed as I can go, making a pretence of drawing away so I can see him better.

When he suggests bathing me, my eyebrow rises before I've even processed how silly that sounds. More wariness creeps into my gaze, despite the fact your own mask never falters.

"I'm pretty sure I can wash myself just fine, Dad."

 

[The_PG]

"Really?"

I give her a shocked look, and then a deadpan one that slowly morphs into a grin. Before I laugh loudly and stand up slowly; still shaking my head. Moving away from her for now, I open her dresser and pull out a bikini that is not totally revealing like most of the ones nowadays, and personally is what I think is much sexier. The way it hugs the ass without showing skin. Leaving a bit more to the imagination. Especially her ass. It being so tight and cute.

"You think I want to see yer scrawny little butt? Hmm?" I wink and toss you the suit.

I add with a slight note of concern in my voice, "I just want to make sure you don't hurt yourself. Besides, you haven't seen the bathtub yet. You might drown." I motion for you to try and stand up, then stop you, instead I scoop my arms underneath your light frame and lift you. I wink as you nervously hold on, and carefully carry you to one of the many different doors that lead in and out of your room. It's the bathroom, completely tiled, with showers on one wall, a toilet on the other, and a large jacuzzi styled tub on the other. I set you on the edge, and hold your hips gingerly.

"See? I'll take you back to the bed, let you change while i change in here, and then I'll come out and get you. That's not too weird is it? I'm not a pervert or anything..." I roll my eyes, but raise my eyebrows as I let the question hang in the air; wondering what your answer might be.

 

[fuckmeat]

"Ok."

Might only be two syllables but they say a lot about my trust in him. I'm actually very afraid of having a seizure in that bath. I try to stand up but dad insists on carrying me back to the bedroom. I find it odd that while everything in the room is pink or purple, the bikini is black. Perhaps it was mine before, when I lived with my mom?

"I could just take a shower."

He won't hear of it. I lie back down on the bed while he vanishes to get everything ready. After a few minutes I get changed into the bikini, with one eye on the bedroom door at all times. I eventually talk myself into the notion that daddy's just trying to help and protect me and that a bath would be really nice.

 

[The_PG]

I knock on the door before exiting the bathroom; just to be sure she isn't still changing even though I've waited far too long anyways. Entering, I scoop her up and carry her into the jacuzzi which is already at a perfect temperature and quite warm. Her taking a shower would be even more dangerous then a bath; slipping and falling? I wouldn't hear of it. Together we slip into the water and while she holds her arms up to her chest I obviously have no such qualms, and start with simply handing her soap to wash her front while I guide her over to my lap and begin washing her backside. Including that cute little bubbly butt, but I make it fun by pinching her and tickling lightly so it's not weird or anything. I finish by helping her with her hair; especially around the bandage and rinsing it afterwards.

"You're really tense Julie," I whisper softly as I slowly dig my thumbs into her back. Working knot after knot, and kink after kink out of it. She doesn't seem to mind, even as I move lower, there are so many I'm not halfway finished when I crane my head around to look at her from the side.

"How about we finish in your room? My fingers are turning to raisins."

We air dry in this huge wind tunnel of sorts. I don't know why I put it in, but it's fun and pretty damn quick too. I let her lay on the bed, and straddle her thighs loosely. Then begin working on the knots, but I really, really cannot help myself. It's only a matter of minutes before I'm tickling her, and leaning over to blow in her ear whenever her head tilts from side to side as she tries to squirm away.

"Hehe, gotcha now cutie pie..." My finger dig into her sides, as she freezes and squeaks she stirs things in my loins that she has probably long forgotten about. As she does begin to get away, I grab her butt, on accident, and tickle her on the inside of her thighs as she scoots the rest of the way. Lastly I snag her foot, and run my nails along the sole. Finally I collapse next to her, and smile.

"Feeling okay? Sorry about all that, but I had to make sure you were okay before we go to the doctors, and I think, you passed the test."

 

[fuckmeat]

I can understand why he doesn't want me out of his reach but it still feels a little weird when daddy starts washing my back and then lathering my hair. I try to remain nonchalant about it and on the face of it, everything's innocent. Something jars in my mind though, something that doesn't want to be all that close to him all the time. I decide that I'm just feeling stifled because he's being super-protective. He's grieving for a woman I can't even remember, a woman I probably resemble. He must have some feelings for the mother of his child, right?

Daddy starts working the knots out of my spine and it does feel good. I'm so tense that it's not even funny. The massage feels good and I relax into it, abruptly ceasing to care whether it's appropriate to be sat on his lap in a bikini at... whatever damn age I am. I can't be as old as I think I am... well, feel I might be. My figure is petite and childlike, slender and curveless. This notion that I must be... well, too old for a pink disney themed bedroom, it could just be some kind of neurological short circuit. I'm on the verge of asking daddy about my age when he announces that his fingertips are shrivelling in the water.

I let him help me out of the jacuzzi and into a warm towel. The wind tunnel thing is quite a surprise and makes me giggle. Everything about my surroundings screams affluence, so my daddy must be rich and successful, which is another comforting thought. Back in the bedroom he starts massaging me again but this time it quickly descends into a kind of tickle wrestling match... except he's not ticklish, which is SO not fair! The strong fingers on his big hands are quick to find all the most vulnerable spots on my body and squirming away just goads him into tickling harder. Finally I'm left a red faced, quivering and gasping mess on top of rumpled pink bedcovers and he flops down beside me.

"Feeling okay? Sorry about all that, but I had to make sure you were okay before we go to the doctors, and I think, you passed the test."

"What's the doctor going to do?" I pull myself up into a sitting position against the headboard and drop my gaze, beginning to look scared. "I don't know what's wrong with me and there's so much that I don't know about me... and you. It's like I don't even know where to start asking questions."

 

[The_PG]

I grin up at her, and the happy attitude remains even though she is no longer the bubbling bit of cuteness that she had just been only moments earlier. I don't stress about it, and I tell her not to either.

"Well first off... The doctor knows more than he is telling me, and you. Believe it or not... He's a greedy bastard, and wants to run tests so he can charge me a fortune. I'm almost positive he knows exactly what is wrong with you and how to fix it... I know I didn't say that much earlier, but I was a lot more... Nervous, then."

I roll over onto the bed, and I land on my stomach between her legs with my face on her tummy. I look up slowly and am able to see her gaze even though she was looking down into her own chest. She sees me and smiles, I suddenly get a hardon that is almost impossible to get rid of. I try not to think about it, and begin talking so that I can ignore it.

"Well... There isn't much of your old life to pick up baby... Since you'll be staying with me you won't have to relearn who all your friends are, and your teachers, and your school. You can just make new ones. Completely new, it's like starting over, and it's probably scary, but you can know that I'm here and I'm your daddy. I'll make sure you are okay, that everything works out..."

I reach up and give her nose a gentle pinch. Then kiss her tummy, before looking up at her again.

"If there is something you really want to know, I can tell you the answer."

I hear her say, almost immediately, "How old am I?"

I smile, and tell her softly.

 

[fuckmeat]

I frown at the notion that I have friends and a school life elsewhere that I'm never going to know about. I don't like to think of schoolfriends worrying about me or thinking I don't care about them. Well I don't because I don't know who they are but I know that I should. I can't muster the energy to pursue this train of thought however. There's plenty of time to worry about stuff like that.

The way he answers my questions quietly, like he's taking them seriously, is very reassuring. It's a highly seductive notion, to just let Daddy worry about everything and do what he says. I'm still so disoriented and bewildered by everything.

"So... I don't even know what year it is... or what time of year it is." My voice falters as I look around the room. "You don't have any windows." I point out, puzzled. Something doesn't add up here and my eyes widen a little, suddenly instinctively fearful. I don't like the idea of being somewhere with no windows.