These Four Walls

***All sexually active characters are of age, 18 years old at least, and all sexual activities are consensual. Enjoy!***

Petite teen, Carrie Harper, 19, sits cutely on the bed under the bright studio lights, dressed in her sports bra and leggings, form-fitting and flattering for her, showing her figure well on camera for all the filthy fuckers desperately watching wherever they are in the world. The young woman enjoys the thoughts of teasing everyone who comes into her chatroom, looking to cum watching her. She likes to picture what they look like, or indulge in the cam-to-cam feature for the right price so she leaves nothing to her fertile mind.

Confident and commanding of her cuteness, Carrie conceals any nerves that crop up with playful coyness, playing up all blushes and moments of embarrassment to spare nothing for the camera and the voyeurs. She knows that shyness attracts a certain clientele who will eat it up, not even needing to fake it as her emotions are exposed. For the petite teen, the exhilaration from her embarrassment amplifies her ecstasy.

Proving popular, the petite teen is no stranger to private performances for the strangers who come her way, more than happy to oblige their individual needs. Carrie receives one such request during her current stream, more than willing to accept the offer, taking the stranger, who goes by the moniker, 'LastSummer,' asking them, "So, what can I do ya for?"

LastSummer: Dance for me.

Tuning her ears to the funky music playing in the background, Carrie throws up her arms, shaking her hips from side to side as she quizzes, "What's your name?" It takes a little while for the stranger's response to come through on the chat, rubbing her hands down her tidy teen body sensually.

LastSummer: It's daddy to you.

Carrie smirks, "Received and understood, my daddy. Want me to get naked for you? Do you have cam? I'd love to see you."

LastSummer: You can get naked. No cam.

Carrie replies, "Yes, sir," slowly shuffling out of her sports bra, turning to hide her tiny bosom from the camera. Placing her hands across her nipples, the petite teen turns back to the camera to enquire, "You like?"

LastSummer: You are very beautiful

Chuckling, Carrie uncovers her bosom, almost flat to her chest, barely curving as her chest narrows slightly to her waist. Her hips widen strongly, however, and a favourite feature of her own figure, thinking her butt in particular is worthy of praise, thumbs digging into the waistband of her leggings, easing them down her legs, sitting back to prise them off her feet.

Fully naked, the petite teen presses her legs together, rolling onto her front and pushing her bare bottom to the camera, moaning, "Mmm, like my butt? Wiggle, wiggle," wriggling her buttocks from side-to-side with abandon, chuckling cheekily.

LastSummer: You really seem to be having fun

Carrie sits up, coming around to catch the comment, replying, "Of course, daddy. This is so much fun. Do you have a special request what you'd like to see?"

LastSummer: I want you to feel bad. Slap yourself.

Slightly discouraged, Carrie states, "Normally, that requires an additional tip. I'll slap anything you like for 666?"

LastSummer tipped 666 tokens.

LastSummer activated level 4.

LastSummer: I'm not playing. Slap your face.

Carrie feels the intense vibrations of her interactive vibrator inside her pussy, making her face wince as she sits back as comfy as she can, slapping her cheeks softly in turn.

LastSummer: Harder. I want them red raw.

Carrie replies, "Yes daddy," slapping her face harder, gasping for breath as her vibrator stops buzzing, but still feeling it's effects lingering as she sits there slapping stronger, grunting, "Yes, daddy."

LastSummer: Slap your pussy.

Hesitating for a moment, Carrie holds out her hand, responding with a whimper, "Yes, daddy," slapping her slit hard, clapping her clit with her palm, bracing for the jolt of pain as she slaps again, "Oh, fuck, nnngh," slapping again, and again, and again, and again, and again, asking, "Mmmmm, like daddy?"

LastSummer: You are actually really turning me on.

LastSummer tipped 200 tokens.

LastSummer activated Pulse pattern for 40 seconds.

Struggling for breath as it is taken away, Carrie huffs hard, hardly able to give voice as her entire being shudders from the blasting pulses of the vibrator through her petite figure. Simply staring into the camera is hard work, wanting to make eye-contact to please the stranger.

LastSummer: That's it. Feel your daddy.

LastSummer tipped 200 tokens.

LastSummer activated Pulse pattern for 40 seconds.

LastSummer tipped 200 tokens.

LastSummer activated Pulse pattern for 40 seconds.

LastSummer tipped 200 tokens.

LastSummer activated Pulse pattern for 40 seconds.

LastSummer tipped 200 tokens.

LastSummer activated Pulse pattern for 40 seconds.

LastSummer tipped 200 tokens.

LastSummer activated Pulse pattern for 40 seconds.

Carrie sings, "Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, da-ddy-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee, o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah..."

LastSummer: I am curious to see how many times you cum.

Vibrator in the petite teen's pussy pulsating strongly, her voice weakens to a feeble tremble, bracing with a hard squint, feeling her pussy cream around the vibrator. The sensation of her orgasm subsides, but the buzzing is unrelenting, continuing to coax Carrie closer again to cumming, feeling her urgency develop as she dares to tease her clit with the tips of her fingers. Flushing a wash of fluid from her folds, the petite teen tries to relax, but the vibrator pulses more and more, and Carrie doesn't know how much more she can endure. Being a good sport, she circles her clit with her fingers firmly and fast, becoming a blur as the buzzing blasts through her being, bringing her closer to climax once again.

The buzzing ceases, but Carrie commits to edging herself back to the brink of ecstasy once more, breathlessly begging, "Fuck... Da-da... Fuck... Hngh... Ah..."

LastSummer left the room.

Carrie collapses back onto the bed, catching her breath whilst she's in, 'away mode,' taking a chance to reconstitute herself. She reaches for a bottle of water, shaking as she tries to take a sip, gulping down the cool beverage, sighing, "Fuck, that was intense..."

The toll on the tiny, teen body, and her impressionable mind is worth it for Carrie, receiving more than adequate compensation for what is essentially an extremely exciting hobby. She feels so confident in herself as she addresses the chat and undresses for the camera, giving her such a thrill.

Going home is not so thrilling, but it has it's moments, as Carrie makes her way into the living room, greeted by her mother asking her, "Where have you been?"

The petite teen shrugs, "Just, like, out with some friends. No big deal."

Julie-Ann Harper, 42, informs her daughter, "Speaking of friends, Tracey and Lillie were looking for you. I said you were out."

Carrie sits with her mom, saying, "I know. I've been messaging on my way back here. We're all caught up."

Julie-Ann reminds her daughter, "Remember, you're at his tomorrow."

Carrie responds gratefully, "Oh, yeah, of course. Like, I actually forgot what day it was for a while. Thanks, Mom."

Julie-Ann looks at her daughter concernedly, noticing for a while now how distracted she is, but choosing not to press this, instead offering, "Wanna catch-up on anything on tele?"

Carrie replies, "Sure. Stick something on," giving her evening's entertainment over to her mother. She settles into her seat, with her smartphone in her lap, dividing her attention between the pair of screens as she catches up on her favourite programs and converses with her friends simultaneously.

The next morning, Carrie is woken by raised voices from downstairs. Blurry-eyed, the petite teen bashes her head into the pillow, used to the drama each week as her dad comes to collect her. She gets up, trudging out of her bedroom onto the upstairs landing, listening as her mom shouts, "Stephen, I don't want to keep going on like this." The teen goes to the bathroom to clean up.

Stephen Harper, 42, answers the teen's mother in kind, "You're never fucking happy; which is the reason I left you."

Julie-Ann scoffs, "Huh, you left? I kicked you out."

Stephen smarmily retorts, "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Julie-Ann huffs, "I don't get much fucking sleep."

Stephen remarks, "That explains a lot; it really does. If only you had a man to tire you out."

Julie-Ann laughs mockingly, "Ha, is that what you do with your whores?"

Stephen answers back defensively, "They're people with feelings too. Sometimes we just want simple things like sex. Sometimes we want a kid, but hate being around each other."

Julie-Ann reasons, "I didn't want to hate you, but you obviously didn't like being around."

Stephen gesticulates as he makes his point, "I wasn't playing around. You were paranoid, and you refused to open yourself up to me because of your delusions, and you pushed me out of our bed, and pushed me out of our home. What? Did you want me to be lonely and feel sorry for myself forever more?"

Julie-Ann bitterly recalls, "You were playing around because all those photos were shared around the socials. You were seen kissing, and dancing with the girls from work."

Stephen laughs in disbelief, feeling frustration, "It always comes back to this. It was a Christmas party, and there was mistletoe, and we had a little disco, hence the dancing, and some karaoke, and charades, but sexy charades because we were all filthy-minded. You were offered to come, but you had to work, and I had to go to get a reward."

Julie-Ann nods emphatically, "Reward? Uh-huh? We know what, 'reward,' means."

Stephen dryly responds, "There were prizes for our work achievements. Even though the photos were there, and everyone said many times since, you still believe there was more to it."

Julie-Ann bluntly says, "You were with Claire after then."

Stephen explains to his ex-wife once again, "You kicked me out, and she was there for me as a friend, and, we mutually decided we wanted to see where it goes, after you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me."

Julie-Ann shouts, "You didn't even try!"

Stephen shouts back, "I did try for months, and I got with Claire after trying with you, and we both agreed, along with many of our colleagues at the time, that it wasn't working with you. Something had to give, and, Claire gave a lot."

Julie-Ann relishes as she reminds him, "Didn't last long with her though, did it?"

Stephen states, "She wanted different things from me, and we amicably split. We stay in touch."

Julie-Ann snorts, "Oh, I bet you do."

Stephen replies, "Not like that." Seeing the scorn on his former wife's face, he softly says, "I would have you back if you stop being silly."

Julie-Ann answers, "As long as you call me, 'silly,' or, 'stupid,' or, 'paranoid,' or, 'dumb,' it's never going to happen. Frankly, I never want to. You go be happy with your whores. I'll stay here and be a mother to out daughter like she deserves."

Stephen notices the petite teen coming down the stairs, dressed and ready to go with a backpack slung over her shoulder, saying to her, "She never changes, does she."

Carrie shrugs, saying honestly, "I'm not getting involved. Can we just go?"

Stephen shepherd's his daughter out of the house, turning back to his ex-wife to say, "I'll have her back safe and sound. See ya." Walking to his car, he asks the teen, "Been up to much? Anything exciting going on you want to talk about?"

The petite teen helps herself into the passenger seat of her dad's car, casually replying, "No, um... Don't think so... Just, like, the usual, hanging out with Tracey and Lillie, and stuff..."

Stephen probes, "Any boys? Or girls?"

Carrie chuckles, "That's funny! No, nothing on the horizon for me."

Pulling off the driveway, Stephen focuses on the road ahead as he asks, "Got a job?"

Carrie considers her words in response, "Well, a few odd things. Making a bit of pocket money, like."

Stephen pushes, "Like what?"

Carrie thinks fast, "Whatever I can help with, like, for people I know from school and what not. Like, not a career, or regular work, just, whatever comes."

Stephen quizzes, "Like, DIY?"

Carrie replies, "Sure, yeah, or, computer stuff, you know?"

Stephen says, "I'm getting the picture. You sound very responsible, like, you're doing something important for people that they'll be thankful for."

Carrie chuckles, "Exactly!"

The drive to the teen's dad's house is short, and prompt, and the petite passenger follows her father's lead inside, hurrying up to her room here to off-load her things. She unpacks from her backpack, clothes and toiletries for her stay, finding their usual places in drawers and on shelves or hangers in the wardrobe and dresser.

Upon leaving her room, she calls, "Dad?"

Stephen answers from the room at the end of the landing, the master bedroom, "In here."

Carrie cutely peeks her head around the doorframe, chuckling, "Knock, knock," seeing her dad sitting at the desk in the corner, coming across to him, asking, "What ya doing?"

Stephen requests coolly, "It's been a long time since you sat on my knee. Come here?"

Carrie looks strangely at her dad, saying, "Sure," sitting with him as he requested, perched on his knee in front of the computer screen. Stephen reaches around her to grab the mouse, clicking to open a tab on the taskbar, showing the teen something very surprising and shocking to her. She is faced with a video recording showing her on camera, doing what she does in her own time.

Stephen holds the petite teen's waist tight to his body as they sit together, positioning the mouse cursor over the play button, and clicking to begin playback. He tells her, "I came across this last night."

Carrie feels her heart racing so fast she's not even sure it's still beating, and her breath holds, tears obscuring the edges of her eyes. This moment doesn't seem real to her, petrified as she hears her past self on the screen say, "So, what can I do ya for?"

Stephen softly asks his little girl, "Care to explain yourself?"

Carrie plays dumb, "What is this?"

Stephen explains, "You know I'm lonely without your mother, and, that I have needs; like anyone else. Imagine my surprise when I find you, and avail myself of your services."

Carrie's eyes widen in horror at the implication, asking to confirm, "You got yourself off to me?"

Stephen softly speaks into the petite teen's ear in response, "No, nothing like that. I just wanted to see what you were doing. You did, and said, a lot that I found very interesting."

Carrie hears her past self say, "Received and understood, my daddy. Want me to get naked for you? Do you have cam? I'd love to see you."

Stephen feels his girl shake in his grip, seeing her react to herself, taunting her, "You know what you've been doing. You're a very bad girl."

Carrie quietly says, "I'm sorry you had to see this. I wouldn't have done it if I'd known."

Stephen smiles as he says, "I need to make you feel sorry."

Carrie quickly responds, "I am sorry. Please, Dad? Believe me? I'm very, very sorry. I'm a bad girl. I know I've done wrong. Please? Dad, I'm sorry."

Stephen lifts the petite teen with ease, carrying her to the bed, holding her down on the soft sheets, leaning over her as he says, "I don't really think you are sorry."

Carrie looks up into her dad's eyes, feeling his hands wander over her body before resting on the duvet either side of her, and she asks, "So, like, what are you going to do about it?"

Stephen stands up straight, staring down on his daughter, telling her, "What you know needs to happen. I'm not holding you against your will, but you know you need to be made an example of for what you've been doing."

Carrie sits upright, asking, "So, like, I can go, and you wouldn't stop me?"

Stephen replies frankly, "You could, but then I could tell your mother about what you've been doing. I can show her the video."

A sinking feeling sets in, like Carrie's heart has fallen through her stomach, as she pleads, "No! No, don't tell her. She doesn't know. She can't know," having a thought cross her mind, "I could just go to your computer and delete the video."

Stephen informs his daughter, "Mmm, but it's backed up. You've heard of the cloud, right?"

Feeling defeated and deflated as she eyes her exit, Carrie sits more still now, coming to terms with her position, as she confesses, "I am a naughty girl."

Stephen confirms, "Yes, you are."

Carrie confesses, "I deserve whatever you do to me." Her dad sits down at his desk, making himself comfortable, watching her expectantly, hearing the video of her ask, "Do you like?"

Stephen demands his daughter to, "Show me what it is that you do that makes you naughty."

With a sense that this is some sort of dream, Carrie curls her legs under her, thinking of herself under the bright studio lights with a camera in front of her. The comfort of her soft sportswear brings comfort as she runs her hands over the sides of her body before brushing her hair in long strokes from root to tip. She then massages her scalp, releasing tension in her mind, closing her eyes to give in to the sensation of the room falling away around her.

Suddenly, her breath catches, and her heart feels as if pierced by a hot needle, setting in a dread of what she is doing here. She slumps her shoulders and holds her hands in her lap, suggesting, "I shouldn't be doing this."

Stephen says, "Don't be shy now."

Carrie assumes that if she just sits here and waits, then he will take pity on her. She sees how her dad sits stubbornly still, watching her as naturally as watching the television, whilst she fiddles with her fingers. Her body rolls back and forth through her core, stirring a devilishly dirty curiosity to see how far her dad will want her to go. Deciding to call his bluff, she slowly pulls off her shirt, exposing her belly and her arms, dropping it above her head so it falls off her figure.

Swaying her hips side-to-side, Carrie crushes her bosom in her bra with her claws, gripping under the sports bra to peel it up, teasing the underside of her bare bosom. Intently watching her dad's reaction, he looks calm like this is normal. Lifting a little more, her puffy nipples pop out into plain view, with her father not fussed. Following through, she pulls the sports bra over her head, cheekily tossing it across the room, caught by her dad.

Stephen feels the warmth of the fabric of his daughter's sports bra, scrunching it up in his hands and lifting it to his nose, sniffing hard, inhaling how she smells. It's almost toast-like, with a little musk from the tiniest tinge of sweat, but generally clean-smelling as if a dry summer's day.

Carrie clenches her puffy nipples, making a mistake indulging in this, because her body doesn't care about what her brain is saying. She feels so free, like in her most private of moments, purring with a longing to be touched ever-so-intimately. To this effect, she slides her leggings down her legs, flicking them off her feet to fall to the floor over the edge of the bed.

Eager to hurry things along, Carrie slots her thumbs into the waistband of her hot pants, popping them off in an instant. In this instance, she is frightfully aware that her father is sitting feet away, looking at her naked body. The petite teen probes, "What now?"

Stephen seems so nonchalant about his daughter's nudeness, suggesting, "You know what you want to do."

Carrie's heart feels as if it has leapt loose from her chest, yearning for clarity of what to do now that she is naked. In her head, clouds of deliciously dirty thought dance around her consciousness without any courting of conscience. The daughter, left to her own devices, feels, physically as well as psychosomatically, her skin all over her petite body tingle. Before she is even aware, she bows her head, shocked to see her fingers at her crotch, circling her clit.