Warning, the following scene contains elements that some readers may find distasteful. This includes: non-consensual intercourse, humiliation, anal, pain, force, and scat.
*
It all still seemed so unreal, yet the sinking pit of dread in my stomach told me otherwise. Last night, I had let my boyfriend talk me into doing something really stupid. We had plans to go out, to do some partying. His car is nice enough, a new Camaro, but he had been bugging me to let him drive something with more speed and power. I should have said no, but I let him talk me into taking Daddy's Mercedes SLR. Of all the cars Daddy owns, it's his favorite, and one of the most expensive. At any rate, last night, coming home drunk, Kyle lost control of it and we got into a nasty accident. Kyle's still in the hospital, but the doctors say he'll be fine. I know it sounds clichΓ©, but I walked away unhurt. The lady we hit though, she's in bad shape. She's in intensive care, and they doctors don't know if she'll come out of the coma.
Daddy knows about the accident of course. I called him right after it happened. I don't think I've ever heard him so mad in my life. There's going to be hell to pay for this. His car is totaled of course. It's a half a million dollar car. We didn't have permission to take the car. The cops are already threatening felony charges too. This isn't supposed to happen to a girl like me. The butler picked me up at the scene, and brought me home.
I'm was standing here, drinking water, and letting the cool spring air flow over me, trying to flush the hangover away. It's not too bad of a hangover, but I still feel like shit. I stared out over the back lawns, and down at the stables. Everything looked so perfect here. It always did. But perfect was as far as things could be right now. Daddy was flying in today, and I didn't know what he was going to do to me. I don't drink that much, not like some of my friends, and hardly ever do drugs. But still, I was worried that he was going to over react and send me to rehab or something. As long as he didn't disown me, I'd be alright. I wouldn't even know what to do with myself if that happened. But he couldn't be that mad... could he?
I took another drink, and leaned against the impressive stone railing, looking down at everything. The simple white dress fluttered sporadically around my legs in the breeze. I could smell the first flowers of spring already blooming. Daddy would be here in an hour or two, and I'm as ready as I can be, given the headache and stomach flutters. I chose to present myself simply, humbly. I wasn't wearing any makeup or perfume. Just the simple white dress, white strappy pumps, and white hose that came all the way up. I've always been a daddy's girl, and he liked me in hose. I tried to stifle the tears when they threatened again. It had all gone so wrong, all in just an instant. I kept hoping to wake up, and to find out that this has just been a bad dream.
"There you are." I heard the angry voice from behind me. I blinked a couple of times. It was my Uncle Jim. I didn't even know he was here. He was Daddy's little brother. I quickly brushed my eyes with my fingertips, trying to shed any lingering tears ready to fall, and turned to face him. The black sheep of the family, he was dressed in a leather biker's jacket, tee shirt, jeans, and boots. His dark hair, sculpted features, and strong jaw made him instantly handsome, like a young Charlie Sheen, before he'd gone crazy. His dark eyes smoldered, and stabbed straight into mine as he walked forward.
"Uncle Jim... I didn't know you were here..."
"Shut up! You really fucked this time!" My stomach clenched and went hallow as he started. "Little. Perfect. Blonde-princess. Little rich bitch. Thinks she can do anything. Thinks she can get away with murder. You really screwed the pooch, Becca."
My eyes went wide as he continued walking forward, taking his thick leather belt off. "What're you doin...?"
He savagely grabbed me, spun me around, and thrust me against the rail. "Punishing you. Your dad sent me. He said, 'Teach her a lesson. Hurt her. Put her in place, and if she even
tries
to resist, she's fucking disowned.' So stick your ass out. I'm gonna give it to you so bad, you won't ever forget."
I instinctively started to cry out, to tell him he couldn't do that to me, but the threat of being cut off from the family fortune strangled out the cry. I blinked tears down my cheeks, and did like he said, and stuck my ass out.
He ran a thick, strong hand up my thigh, his fingertips intimately along my inner thigh. As he ran his hand up, his fingertips grazed against my sex and ass. I gasped. This wasn't right. How
dare
he? But I kept my mouth shut. Maybe it was an accident. Then, as his hand ran across my ass, he lifted my skirt. He raised it up, folded it up against my back. I felt the breeze against the bare skin between the tops of my hose, and my panties. I felt vulnerable and exposed. I looked out across the lawns, and my eyes met a Mexican gardeners', and seemed to silently implore him for help. He stared back salaciously, hungry to see more of me. I made a mental note to find out his name, so I could tell Daddy to fire him.
I wanted to pull my skirt back down, to run away, or to just turn and face Uncle Jim. My heart pounded with panic, confusion, fear, shame, and anger. He was looking at my firm, perky little ass. I'd felt how his hand touched me. How his hand was still touching me, cradling my ass like a lover's would. I wanted to scream. I stood there, silently, and started to shake. And I could feel my little, betraying pussy getting wet. What the fuck was wrong with me?
His large, warm hand then departed, and I almost mourned for its departure. I felt disgust with myself, that I could have such an improper reaction to him touching me like that. He was handsome, but he was a relative. He looked like my dad would if he was just a few years younger, and had dark hair instead of the blonde, like I had. I wanted to glance back to see what he was doing. I could hardly bare to admit that there was some part of me that wished that he'd pulled my panties down. And with that conscious thought, I felt my clit start to grow.
The first blow caught me entirely off guard, and I screamed out, loud. The crack of the leather against my ass sounded out like a gunshot. I trembled, and my knees threatened to buckle as I screamed and clawed the stone with my manicured fingernail. Finally, I was able to get myself somewhat under control. In a swirl of perfect blonde hair, I spun my head around to see my uncle raising the belt again. My whimper at seeing it blended an instant later with my next scream as the heavy belt cracked against me. He wasn't holding anything back, and my squeals echoed off the main house, and across the yards.
He yelled something at me, but my head was so full of my own voice, and searing pain, that I didn't understand him at first. I finally understood though, and I turned back around, facing out toward the lawn as he continued to whip me. One searing band of pain blended with the next as the belt made cracking noises against my ass and thighs. I squirmed and thrashed with each blow, crying all through it. I can't say how long he whipped me, or how many times he hit me. It seemed to last forever. Each second lasted minutes or hours.
Finally, when I was hoarse, he relented. I heard him putting his belt back on. I throbbed all over, and worst, were the places where the belt had hit the same place over and over. I could feel little stripes and strips of welts already rising. I wasn't going to be able to sit right for a long time.