**Soooo this is technically a second part to** [**this story**](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/jcm6q9/daddy_issues_mf_teen_barely_legal_rough_blowjob/)**, but you could probably read this without having to read the first part, though I’d love it if you did go read my other stories :D Btw this story is very rough and could be bordering on rape, but seeing is it’s mostly consensual I didn’t tag it rape… so be warned!**
**Again, Freya is based off of** [**Freya Allan**](https://www.reddit.com/r/FreyaAllan/top/?t=all) **because I think she’s super hot!**
**If you guys have any ideas for stories please send them my way, I’ll try and reply to all of you, but I am super busy this time of year…**
**Anyway, please enjoy the story!**
Sat on a leather sofa in the hotel lobby, she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, kept scratching at the stitching on the sofa’s arm, as if these repetitive actions would somehow help keep her nerves from engulfing her whole being.
They didn’t. In fact, they probably made her anxiety worse. She kept getting the occasional glance from a passer-by. A look of worry or confusion would cross their face, but they would carry on to wherever it was they had to be, not giving a second thought to the strange anxious girl in the hotel lobby. Freya didn’t like them looking at her. It was like they knew why she was here. Like they knew what she was and were judging her for it.
No! She kept saying to herself. How could they know? This was a posh hotel in the city, she had never been here before and didn’t know anyone who lived around here. The chance of being recognised was next to zero, and even if she did run into someone she knew, it was none of their business why she was here.
But what if it was one of mum’s friends who saw her?
What if mum finds out that I’m not at Clara’s house studying but I’m in the city on my own, doing this… Her throat got tight and suddenly breathing seemed to take a lot more effort.
‘Hey… I’m sorry,’ A female voice, next to her. ‘But I couldn’t help but notice that you’re looking… well, honestly you look like you’re about to explode.’
Freya turned. A hotel worker, a receptionist maybe. Not much older than her, maybe twenty, twenty-one. She had a pretty Scottish accent and eyes like blue marbles
‘What? I’m fine.’ Freya felt defensive, her cheeks flushed red. ‘I’m just… waiting for someone.’
The receptionist bit her lip like she was contemplating if she should just take the girl’s answer and leave her be, or if she should inquire further. Choosing the latter, she said, ‘If you’re in trouble or something, you can stay with me at the desk. And I can call someone to come get you? Mum or your Dad?’
‘No. I’m fine.’ Freya said. ‘Why would I be in trouble? Can’t a girl sit in a hotel lobby and wait for someone without being pestered?’
‘It’s just… Y’know how it is. Pretty young thing like you in a hotel lobby. A hotel where lots of older businessmen stay.’
‘What? You saying that I’m a whore? A prostitute?’
She smiled warmly, ‘No. All I’m saying is you have a choice. You shouldn’t have to do anything you don’t wanna. I’ll be at reception if you need me.’ The receptionist went behind a desk and didn’t say another word to the nervous teen.
Freya felt a buzz in her small handbag. She got her phone out and read the text, her hand shaking.
*You here yet?*
She typed back: *Yeah im in the lobby…? You comin down to meet me?*
A moment later a reply buzzed: *No. I don’t want any funny looks. You come up to me. Room 617. The door will be unlocked.*
She stood up, trying her hardest to walk with confidence and not absolute terror. She stepped into the elevator. The doors shut, and as they did the receptionist gave her another worried look.
*******
The sixth floor was the top of the hotel, where the suites were situated. She counted the doors as she walked down the corridor, occasionally hearing the sound of a TV or someone coughing coming from a room. There was something about hotels, especially big ones, that excited and frightened Freya. A mystery behind each door. Who was staying here and why? Holiday or business trip. Pleasure or a corporate meeting. Freya read 616 on a door.
617. The next one across was slightly ajar. She stopped before it, her heart beating so quick it felt it was gonna burst from her chest and bounce back down the corridor like a ping-pong ball. She took a deep breath. Told her herself what she’d been telling herself again and again since that night in his car in the woods.
This is what you agreed to.
This is what you want.
This is what you are.
She pushed the door open. The smell of that expensive cologne filled her nostrils and flashbacks of being bent over his car’s bonnet ran through her mind. Pleasure tingled in her between her legs.
The suite was large, probably larger than Freya’s house. He sat on the far side of the room, relaxing into an armchair. He swirled a tumbler of whiskey, ice clinking against the glass.
‘Lock the door.’ Daddy said.
Freya gulped. That simple command. Just those three words in that authoritative growl made her stomach jump and a shiver dance down her spine. She twisted the metal knob and the locked clicked with a dull finality.
‘Would you like a drink?’ He asked.
Freya nodded, ‘Yeah.’ Her voice was feeble. A drink would help the dryness in her throat.
Daddy stood up and went over to the minibar. ‘What do you want?’
‘Water.’
‘No. You’re gonna have something stronger. Something that’ll loosen you up a bit. I don’t want any of that crying bullshit I had in the car last time.’ He opened a cabinet. It was full of spirits and liquor. ‘So, what do you want to drink?’
‘Gin and tonic.’ She looked at the floor as he poured her drink.
‘Here.’ He handed her the tall glass of clear liquid. She sipped it and coughed. There didn’t seem to be much tonic in this gin and tonic.
‘Sorry, I-I’m not much of a drinker.’ She cleared her throat.
‘And I bet until a few months ago you weren’t much of a cock hungry slut? How times change, huh?’
They stood in silence. Both sipping their drinks, him eyeing her body like an apex predator before making a kill. Freya was finding it difficult to look into his eyes. Cold, grey, and calculating.
‘I thought you weren’t gonna message me back after last time.’ He grinned. ‘The way you left my car, all quiet and distant. I thought maybe I’d broken you. Maybe I’d fucked you so hard that you’d regressed into a lifeless doll.’
Freya sipped.
‘But then there I am,’ he continued ‘facefucking some lonely teen in a car park, when suddenly I get a notification on my phone, from you, begging me to meet up again.’
It all felt so distant to Freya. The messaging and the exchanging of filthy pictures. It always felt like a game. A game that you could back out of whenever you wanted. Now, here in this hotel room with him standing less than a metre away from her, she realised she couldn’t back out, and that she belonged to him. Daddy could do whatever the fuck he wanted to her and there was nothing she could do about it.
‘Girls like you always come crawling back. They’ll do anything for a daddy. No matter how fucked up. No matter how degenerate. No matter how much it hurts. They’ll do anything as long he shows them some attention.’
He moved a step closer. Freya had forgotten just how big he was compared to her tiny body. Overshadowing her petite frame, he stroked her cheek. She expected a slap. A hard slap on her face, then being forced to her knees where she would be made to choke on his huge cock.
Instead, he whispered, ‘Go into the bedroom. There’s a gift on the bed for you. Put it on then come back. And be quick about it.’
She placed the glass back on a side table and noticed that she’d nearly drank the whole thing. As she moved to the bedroom she felt the oncoming dizziness that came with drinking what was basically a glass of pure gin. When she had said that she wasn’t much of drinker she hadn’t been lying. Even calling her a lightweight would probably be giving her too much credit.
The bedroom was behind two double doors. Resting on a large king-size bed was a red box, a white bow tied neatly around it. A flutter in her heart, ideas flew for her mind of what the gift could be. She knew what Daddy was like. The types of things that excited him. In their exchanges online he’d gone into to so much graphic detail of what he enjoyed. Whips. Ropes. Collars.
Pain.
The thought of something new and dangerous scared Freya, but these all disappeared when she undid the bow and lifted the lid from the box.
Inside was an emerald green dress. She held it up. It was pretty, almost like something a Disney princess would wear, or something that would be seen on the popular girl at school as she won prom queen. It was nothing like the clothes Freya wore. Her whole style was made up of jeans, band t-shirts, and Converse sneakers.
‘Put it on.’ Daddy was in the doorway, sipping a recently topped up whiskey. ‘Now.’
She placed the dress on the bed, carefully as to not crease it. Then she knelt down and untied her sneakers, kicked them off. She pulled her hoody off and then the t-shirt. She was wearing a white bra, the cups holding her small perky breasts. She lowered and removed her jeans. Her panties matched the bra, and the crotch was soaked wet.
‘See. I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re wet. Such a fucking whore.’ He drank from the tumbler, nearly downing the whole thing. ‘Get that dress on. Now.’
He left her alone in the bedroom as she got herself into the dress. It fit her well. The green fabric was tight to her figure, especially around her ass and hips. There was a waist-high leg slit which showed off the creamy pale skin of her left leg. She saw her reflection in the mirror and for a split-second thought she looked beautiful. A glamorous, elegant angel, shining bright with sex appeal.
‘Are you done yet? Hurry the fuck up.’ Daddy called in, and the angel was gone, only leaving Daddy’s little cunt behind. She needed to stop thinking she was her own person. That she had any choice in what she does, feels, or thinks. She didn’t get to choose anymore. She should never open her mouth unless Daddy’s dick is in front of her. She was a set of walking holes, whose only purpose in life was to please men.
Freya left the bedroom, the alcohol now completely gone to her head. Daddy was sat back in the chair. When he saw her in the dress, she was certain there was something else in his eyes, something other than angered lust and desire to break her. Something… human?
She shook the thought from her mind. No. Daddy doesn’t care about you. You’re his toy. His stupid, dumb, whore of a cunt.
‘I’ve poured you another drink. Drink it. Then we can get started.’
She walked over, the suite’s cream carpet soft on her bare feet. This gin was even stronger, and when she was finished her head felt weightless as if it had disconnected and floated away from her body.
Two hands came up behind her, moving up across the dress’s soft fabric, over her belly and over her breasts. He stopped there for a second and squeezed, the pressure on her tits turning into pleasure in her pussy. Daddy turned her around, kissed her hard. The whiskey on his breath, his stubble on her flesh. He took her hand and led her back into the bedroom, and sat her down on the bed.
He pushed her flat on her back, then reached his hands under the dress, his fingers warm on her thighs. He roughly grabbed at her panties and ripped them off. She felt his finger circle her clit, then slowly enter her. Freya moaned and squirmed as he forced another finger into her wetness.
‘I hope you’ve not let anyone else touch you.’ He whispered. ‘Because if you have… I’d have to punish you. Real bad. I’d have to make sure you don’t forget it, so you won’t ever let another man near you.’
‘No Daddy…’
‘Have you been touching yourself?’
Freya writhed in pleasure. ‘Yes… I touch myself every night… sometimes even when I’m in school.’
Daddy grinned, ‘What do you think off when you touch yourself?’
‘You Daddy… I think of you…’
He paused and looked her dead in the eye.
‘You’re such a whore.’ Daddy said. ‘Such a pathetic cunt.’ He pulled his fingers out. ‘Touching yourself while thinking of an older man using you like a cheap hooker. God, you’re so fucking pitiful.’
Freya sat up, thinking she’d done something to upset him. She didn’t even see him raise his hand to slap her. She just felt the jolt in her cheek and the next thing she knew, she was back down, her cheek stinging and tears rolling from her eyes.
‘Did I say sit up?’ He snapped, ‘Fucksake, are you deaf? Is that it? What did I say last time?’ He crawled on top of her and grabbed her face. ‘What the fuck did I say last time? Answer me!’
‘I… belong to you…’ She sniffled.
‘Yes. You dumb cunt.’
He slapped her again, and Freya let out a wail. Not of pain, but of sadness. She didn’t want to disappoint her Daddy.
‘You think ‘cos you’re wearing a pretty dress you’re more than a fucking cunt? You’re not.’ He came in closer, inches away from her face ‘Putting a pretty dress on fucktoy doesn’t make her any less of a fucktoy.’ He spat in her face, then crawled off her. ‘Sit up. Sit the fuck up.’ He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to a sitting position, her head next to her crotch.
He unbuckled his belt, then pulled the whole belt loose from his suit pants. Freya winced, assuming he was going to whip her with it. Instead, he wrapped it around her neck, tightly fastening and almost cutting off her the air to her lungs. He held onto the loose end, turning the belt into a makeshift collar.
‘There.’ He said, ‘Now you won’t be tempted to wriggle away.’ With his other hand, he pulled down his pants. His cock sprung free, slapping against her tear-stained face. It was bigger than she remembered. Seeing it again… seeing the huge veiny dick that brutally took her virginity made her pussy ache. Thinking of how he had bent her over and remorselessly rammed it inside, and how every night since then she’d orgasmed to the thought of it.
He brushed it against her lips. ‘Open your fucking mouth.’ He pulled on the belt, tightening it around her flesh. As Freya gasped out for air, Daddy took his chance and forced his cock into her mouth. All nine inches slid in and his balls rested on her chin. He moaned as Freya made noises that no human should make. Choking, gagging, struggling to breathe, the small teen struggled and fidgeted, her eyes rolling back in their sockets as her vision went black and splotchy, the image of Daddy looking down at her, grunting as his the tip of his cock rubbed against the deep of her throat.
When he pulled out, his cock was covered in spit and pre-cum. Freya tried to fall back, but Daddy held her up with the belt, like some sort of fucked up puppeteer. She wept softly… constantly thinking…
This is what you want.
This is what you agreed to.
This is what you are.
This is what you want.
This is what you agreed to.
This is what you are.
This is what you want.
This is what you agreed to.
This is what you are.
A hard slap brought her back to reality. ‘Did you hear what I said, slut?’ Another slap. ‘You’re fucking useless. You know what? I don’t even wanna fuck that pussy anymore. You’re such a whore you probably let any old creep fuck you…’
Freya didn’t say anything. Between the rough facefucking and the alcohol… she didn’t exactly feel like replying.
‘Get on all fours.’ He violently yanked her onto her belly. ‘Get on your hands and knees.’ She did as she was told, burying her face into the soft cushions. She felt the weight of the bed shift as Daddy climbed up behind her.
He pulled the dress up, exposing her bare ass. Below, her drenched pussy dripped down her thighs. He clenched both hands on her ass and squeezed. He groaned, then she felt the wet tip of his cock touch in between her cheeks.
‘Fuckin’ whore.’ He snapped and rubbed his cock alongside her tiny asshole.
This is what you want.
This is what you agreed to.
This is what you are.
Daddy slowly pressed his tip into her, stretching the hole slightly. He stopped, tugged on the belt around her neck, pulling her up from the safety of the cushions.
This is what you want.
This is what you agreed to.
This is what you are.
‘You belong to me.’ He whispered in her ear, ‘A fuckin’ lonely cumdumpster with daddy issues. A fuckin’ cumrag skank.’
This is what you want.
This is what you agreed to.
This is wha-
Daddy shoved his cock into Freya’s asshole. All nine inches forced balls deep with one thrust. The cry she let out was inhuman and strange… it came from somewhere deep inside her, a wail so shrill and high-pitched that everyone on this floor of that hotel must have heard it reverberate through the walls. And as he started to pound her, relentlessly and viciously, he again tightened the belt around her neck, making breathing next to impossible.
He pressed her into the mattress, his larger body crushing her as he thrust in and out of her stretched and abused asshole. Freya flailed about, her arms moving on their own. Daddy managed to grab one and bend it behind her back, sending blows of sharp pain up into her shoulder.
‘Dumb fuckin’ bitch.’ He spat each word in between sadistic thrusts. ‘This is what you fucking wanted. You know you fuckin’ deserve this.’
Amongst the attack on her asshole and the lack of oxygen due to the belt around her neck, Freya felt something strange in the grey mist between consciousness and oblivion. Something perfect. Something that she’d been looking for, ever since she’d started talking to strange old men online. Right here, right now, was where she was supposed to be. In a hotel room with a man old enough to be her father, on a bed as he lay on top of her brutally raping her asshole.
Despite the immense pain that was like nothing she’d ever felt, each of Daddy’s thrusts sent a tremor off pure and complete pleasure throughout her body. Each quake started at her destroyed asshole, these jolts of exhilaration travelled to her pulsating pussy and then spread across her whole body and mind. As if her body was a beautiful sandy beach, and Daddy’s attack on her was a ferocious and powerful wave, hitting against her again and again.
Daddy snarled like a wild beast when he came. The apex predator making the kill. Freya a sweet innocent deer, him, a terrifying wolf. His orgasm was long and full. He emptied his balls into her torn asshole, still thrusting until every last drop of the thick white cum was pushed as deep inside his bitch as it could go. He held it there few a couple minutes, his sweat covered body lying on top of the shuddering girl, his cock softening inside her wrecked hole.
Eventually, Daddy stood up. His breath was rapid. His wiped his forehead then looked at the girl he had just demolished. She was shaking quietly, and underneath where her pussy lay, the white bedsheets were flooded with the wetness from her fucked up orgasm. He smiled, knowing that he had once again broken his toy cunt.
‘Get up. You’ve made a mess.’
Freya turned, her whole body felt like it had been steamrolled. Her eyes glazed over. It was like she wasn’t here. Like it wasn’t happening.
Daddy had stripped down naked. ‘I’m going for a shower. I expect you gone when I get out.’ He walked into the bathroom, his cock swinging between his legs. ‘Oh, and leave the dress on the bed.’ Freya heard the water from the shower, but Daddy’s head poked around the door again. ‘One last thing. There’s another gift for you on the table near the bar. Take it and open it when you’ve left.’ Freya didn’t move. ‘Go. Get going.’
Still, Freya didn’t move.
‘What the fuck did I just say?’ He snapped, raising his voice. Freya jumped and got to her feet.
‘Sorry, Daddy…’ She said, timidly.
Daddy glared at her. ‘Remember. What the fuck are you?’
She looked down. ‘Daddy’s little cunt.’
‘Good girl. Now fuck off.’ The bathroom door slammed shut.
Freya grimaced, it felt as if someone shoved a hot poker up her bum. Taking the green dress off and getting her own clothes back on was a painful chore, as every time she moved her legs her hole ached.
She was pulling her hoody over her head when she heard a phone buzz. It can’t have been her own ‘cos it was in her pocket. She looked around and saw another phone on the nightstand by the bed. It must have been his.
On tiptoes, she walked over and looked at it the screen. It was a text from someone called Sara.
*hey hon! me and daisy are really missing you! cant wait until you get home tomorrow… love u loads xxx*
His wife? The message notification disappeared and Freya saw that his lock screen was a saved family photo. Daddy was smiling with a blonde woman about his age. Next to them was a teen girl. Blonde too, with pale skin. She was petite. And was wearing a beautiful green dress. The type of dress that a Disney princess would wear.
She looked over at the crumpled dress on the bed. The dress that he had made her wear while he mistreated her tight teen body. The dress that she wore while she called him Daddy.
Freya put the phone down and left the bedroom. The shower was still on in the bathroom. She hated to think what Daddy would do if he caught her on his phone. She went to leave, then remembered what Daddy had said. A gift near the bar. She turned and found it. A red box, smaller, but near identical to what his daughter’s dress had been in, even had a similar white ribbon. She took it and left the hotel suite, and limped towards the elevator.
*******
The elevator doors slid open. The lobby was empty, the humming of a light bulb breaking an otherwise eery silence. She followed the signs to the women’s toilets. She sat down in a cubicle, locking the door behind her. And then broke down. She sniffled, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her hoody.
She examined the gift box. Holding her breath, she opened the lid. Inside was a note. It read in neat cursive: *Wear this at all times, like the slut you are.* Underneath the note, protected by scrunched up paper, was a black object. She knew what was. She’d considered buying one a couple times but was terrified her mum would find while cleaning her room.
A butt plug. A wide one too.
She stood up. She wasn’t going to do it. She placed the butt plug on the toilet seat and left the cubicle. At the sink, she washed her hands and her face. When she got home, she was going to sit in the shower, let the hot water wash away what had happened tonight. Wash away his smell. His seed. Then she was going to go on all those chat sites and delete her accounts, then she was going to block his number. She never wanted to see or hear from him again. She was going to forget any of this had ever happened.
She splashed icy water on her face. Kept on doing it for a few minutes. She needed to wake herself up from this dream.
In the mirror, the face looking back wasn’t her own. It was similar to it… the same features… but all skewed and broken. Instead of perfect pale skin, the reflection had flushed red cheeks, pre-cum dried around her mouth. The once happy eyes were broken and crimson from weeping, and black tears had formed from her running make-up. Her hair was messy from it being tugged on, no longer straight and perfect. And around her neck, where the flesh had been soft and clear, there was now bruising dark from his hands and the belt he had choked her with.
Go home.
Go home.
Freya looked at this reflection she didn’t recognise and felt that all familiar tingle in her groin again. She felt that need. A need to be owned.
She smiled at the reflection… a wide, mad grin, almost like the one Daddy had when he used her body. She giggled, and the figure in the mirror was no longer a stranger to Freya. It was the sweet and innocent girl on this side who was the outsider. The broken toy was who she was supposed to be.
She turned and went back into the cubicle. She lowered her jeans to her ankles and squatted on the floor. She took the butt plug and slowly forced the rubber into her ruined hole, pushing any of Daddy’s cum that was gonna leak back up inside her. She clenched her teeth as pain flared up through her body which then turned to pleasure as her pussy throbbed in delight. Using her finger to make sure Daddy’s gift was all the way in, she stood up and pulled up her jeans. She had to bite her lip as she walked back to the lobby, hobbling through the hotel corridors, her pussy seeping through the denim of her jeans.
The receptions that had talked to her before was behind the desk. She looked up at Freya, dishevelled and her mind somewhere else.
‘You okay? Is everything okay?’ The receptionist shouted after Freya as she left the hotel.
‘Everything’s fine…’ Freya murmured hazily. ‘As long as Daddy’s happy… everything’s fine…’
The receptionist thought about chasing her, but when she got outside into the cool night, the girl had gone.
This is what you agreed to.
This is what you want.
This is what you are.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kh700d/daddy_issues_this_is_what_you_are_mf_barely_legal