argst03

Rebel in a Thong  Jessie was a good girl, daddy's girl, always obedient, always respectful, doing her best to help her politician father maintain his image as a family man. Until the day she realized just what manner of sleazy, adulterous lecher he was. From that day on Jessie vowed to cast aside her inhibitions, to go wild and enjoy all the lewd and exciting things she'd never had a chance for. Buying a motorcycle and seducing a biker were just the first in a long string of actions she took to outrage her father, as she heads off on a thrill ride down the highway, an easy rider, if ever there was one.  $5.95   33,000 words                                           OR TO RETURN TO LIBRARY click here

One

Jessie walked smoothly and gracefully into the room, back erect, head high, perfect smile on her perfect lips as she moved through the guests smiling and nodding pleasantly to those who knew her.

She'd just finished a gruelling month of exams at college, yet while her friends were off somewhere loafing or enjoying themselves, she was at one of her dad's fund raising events, smiling and looking pretty.

She hated it. In fact, she was beginning to hate everything about her life. Her friends, none of which would be called wild by any stretch of the imagination, had tales to tell of the exciting things they'd done in their short lives, the countries they'd visited, the frolics they'd taken part in, the... relationships they'd had.

Meanwhile, she'd done nothing. Nothing. When she was a little girl it had always been "be a good girl now, Jessica. You don't want to embarrass your father now." She'd been forced into frilly party dresses to be patted on the head, while her friends were out playing in jeans.

As an adolescent it had been the same. Being the perfect daughter to Mr. Family Values, her father, required she have just the right haircut, go to just the right schools (all girl schools with rigid rules and unpleasant uniforms). She'd had to work her ass off to finish high in her classes so her father wouldn't be "embarrassed".

That left virtually no time for socializing, and with the girl’s schools, little opportunity. She could count on one hand the number of dates she'd had in high school.

Then came college. She'd had such high hopes. She'd actually put up a fight over it. She'd tried to go to an out of state college, a big one where she could be anonymous and maybe have a little fun.

But no. What would people think if she had to go out of state to get an education? They'd wonder if her father took no pride in the state's own colleges. Well, then she'd go to the big state college. No. Certainly not.

So she'd gone instead to a tiny, exclusive women only college where the girls were all as snobbish as she herself was trained to be. More boredom, more work, more pressure to be perfect. And at every break... home to be on daddy's arm, to show everyone how he'd raised his little girl right.

Everything she did or said had to be analysed for how it might affect her father's reputation, his re-election chances, his fund-raising campaigns.

Her soft brown hair was long and straight, with cute bangs over her forehead. She'd long wanted to cut it, do - do - something! - with it, maybe even dye it, but her parents were aghast at the thought.

There were no pants in her wardrobe. None. Likewise there were no short skirts, or tight blouses. There was nothing anyone could term sexy or revealing. There were pleasant dresses in proper shades, long skirts, and, of course, blazers.

At the moment she was clad in a long, loose ankle length dress that did as much as it could to hide her lush 38-22-36 body. It bared her softly rounded shoulders, but that was the most that could be said for it.

Her hair was bound lightly with a small gold chain, pulled together at the back of her neck to hang loosely over her right shoulder. Her small, pert mouth was graced with soft, sensuous lips... had she been able to put makeup on properly. Instead she was forced to try and make her mouth as unsexual as possible. She hadn't really succeeded, but she'd tried.

Her nose was narrow and aristocratic, her eyes rounded and a bright, startling green. She was six feet tall, which she might have taken pride in, except it wasn't quite right, according to her father's handlers, and she was forced to always wear flat heels to disguise her height.

She had, according to her friends at school, quite beautiful legs, exquisitely formed and sculpted, long and ivory and flawless from her trim ankles to her firm thighs. No man had ever seen them however, at least not above the knee.

She didn't even understand why she went along with this. She loathed her father's perfection, and had her own money, courtesy of her grandfather's trust fund, which had kicked in on her twentieth birthday. She longed for the day she could just tell her father to go and screw off.

Instead she helped her mother and father to squeeze money out of the rich guests at the party, so her father could get back to doing whatever it was he did in the senate.

"Jessica, darling," her mother said, smiling her phoney smile. "Come and meet someone, dear."

She took her wrist and led her to a tall, skinny looking man with narrow eyes and a sulky mouth.

"Eugene, this is Jessica."

"Hello, Miss Taylor," he said, smiling every so slightly.

"How do you do, sir?" Jessie said, keeping her voice in tight control.

Her father had had voice coaches for her since she was twelve, trying to make her voice higher, and more girlish. She tried her best, but at times it still came out low and husky. She'd heard actresses speak in the same low tones, and people called their voices sultry. Her parents didn't agree, however.

"Jessica is getting straight A grades at Lord Lloyd's College," her mother beamed. "After she graduates she's going to work for the party."

"Good for her," the man said dourly.

Jessica looked at her mother in surprise. For this was the first she'd ever heard of what she was supposed to do after college. She'd had many fantasies, of course, of going off to some forgotten corner of the country and maybe leading her own life.

"Mother, may I speak with you alone for a moment?"

"Don't be rude, dear," her mother said, smiling coldly.

Jessie blushed as her mother turned back to Mr. whatever his name was and ignored her. She stood there like a lamp for five minutes until the man moved off, then her mother pulled her over to meet someone else.

"Why must you speak to me like I'm a child?" she demanded.

"Because you act like one," her mother snapped.

"What is this about me going to work for the party?"

"After you graduate you'll go and work for Michael Rogers in youth recruitment. He's sure you'll do quite well in helping bring in the younger crowd, the college people into the party."

"But I don't want to work for the party," she protested.

"The party has put food in your stomach and clothes on your back all your life, young lady," her mother glowered. "Don't you dare show your ingratitude and embarrass your father."

"But I - ."

"Your father went to a good deal of time and effort to give you a purpose in life," her mother said, digging her hands into Jessie's wrist. "So many other young people are graduating and have no idea what they will do. They can't find jobs, and discover their education wasted. Now you're complaining because your father had the decency to help you? You should get down on your knees and thank God for a father like him. Now come along!"

She pulled Jessie over to meet another rich man, but Jessie hardly saw him. Her mind was filled with misery at the thought of spending more years as her father's flunky, keeping all her emotions in check, acting like the "good girl" for her father. Never having any fun. Never having any life.

Then she felt intensely guilty. Her father had done so much for her, and was doing so much more for the America. How could she act like a spoiled brat and complain just because she didn't think she was having any fun? What kind of an ingrate and selfish child was she anyway?

And yet it was so hard to think of more years as... as a perfect little girl. She felt near tears at the prospect. She moved away from her mother and down the hall, searching for an empty room where she could be alone.

She opened the door to the library and went inside, blinking back tears as she closed the door behind her. She turned on the lights and gave a little gasp as a man jumped up from the desk near the French windows, clutching a handful of cigars.

It was Daniel Moore, a nasty and rude man who went to Harvard, and had almost been kicked out for painting a statue pink. He was about her age, but not, in her opinion, very mature at all.

"What are you doing with those?" she demanded.

"I uh, was just refilling the humidor."

"I saw you putting them into your pocket."

He looked around worriedly, then sighed and shrugged.

"You're right," he admitted. "I didn't think anyone would miss them."

"That's stealing," she said accusingly.

"Oh big deal. Your old man is rich as shit," he protested. "And he's a politician. They're all crooks anyway."

"My father is one of the most honest men in this country," she said haughtily.

"Oh, right."

"You're so gauche, Daniel," she frowned. "If you wanted cigars surely you could purchase your own."

"These were handy, and they tasted good." He grinned.

"Put them back and I won't tell anyone," she said.

He put them back, but didn't look very grateful for her understanding.

"Try to act like a mature gentleman," she said, acting somewhat like her mother.

"Are you kidding?" he sniffed. "I'm not a friggin robot like you."

"Don't be insulting," she snapped.

"Hey, I've seen you wandering around with your mummy holding your hand, smiling and bobbing. Yes, Mr so and so. No Mr. so and so. Why thank you, Mr. So and so. Yeeesh."

"I am helping host this party," Jessie glared. "And being sociable is nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Right, and letting that old man grope your behind was sociable?" He smirked.

She blushed angrily. One of the guests had put his hand on her behind while standing beside her. She had shifted out of range as quickly as possible, but hadn't protested. Making a scene would have been so gauche.

"I did not let him," she snapped.

"You didn't say no."

"I moved away!"

"My sister would have kicked him in the balls."

"Well if you're any example, your sister is hardly a lady."

"My sister is more of a lady than you. You're just a china doll. I'd be willing to bet every cent I own that you're still a virgin."

"Don't be such a pig!" She glared.

"I bet you've never even given a guy a hand job." He leered.

"Get out!" she snapped, pointing at the door.

"Come on, Jessica. Let's do it. Right here. I'll give you a ride you won't ever forget," he taunted.

"I'd rather die," she sneered.

"And the sad thing is, I believe you mean it."

"I do!"

"Yeah, well, I guess you aren't always your father's daughter, are you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that your father sure never turned down an opportunity for a good ride."

"You're disgusting! My father has been faithful to my mother for twenty years!"

He laughed uproariously, laughed with such genuine mirth that she was taken aback.

"Oh Christ I think you actually believe that," he giggled, rubbing his eyes.

"It's true," she said, with less confidence.

"Your father, dear girl, will screw any female out of her training bra with the slightest opportunity."

"You're a filthy liar!"

"Think so?"

"I know so!"

"You're forgetting my father is Chairman of the Tobacco lobby. He knows all about your father and what it takes to buy his votes."

"My father never sold a vote in - ."

"Yeah right. Let me tell you how it's done, little girl," he sneered. "The tobacco lobby sends a really high class call girl, one of those thousand bucks a night ones, to his apartment here in the city - ."

"He doesn't have an apartment!"

"And she does everything he wants, then gives him the number of the Swiss bank account the lobby is using that particular month. He takes the money and transfers it into his personal Swiss account."

"You’re lying!"

"Am I? I happened to overhear my father talking to Paul Madsen. He's got a redhead for him tonight. He'll probably be heading off to his apartment any time now."

"I'm not going to listen to any more of this!" she snapped.

She turned and rushed to the door, then jerked it open. The first thing that caught her eyes was her father coming towards the library, arm in arm with Daniel's father. She pulled back, then turned to find Daniel behind her.

"Come on," he gasped, gripping her arm and pulling her towards the corner.

"What? Wait? Let me go!" she demanded as he pulled her behind the thick, heavy curtains.

He pulled her flat against him and put a hand over her mouth.

"Listen and learn," he whispered.

She struggled to pull loose, but then she heard the door closing and her father's voice.

She stopped moving. How would she explain being behind the curtain with Daniel?

"Well a good party, Phil," Mr. Moore said.

"Yes, and profitable, thanks to you."

"We do our best to help," Moore said jovially.

"Yes, uh, speaking of help..."

"Her name is Ellen."

"Ahhh."

"She'll meet you tonight at seven."

"I can't make it tonight, Phil."

"Oh?"

"No. I've gotta meet Joe Banks at eight."

"Pity. Well, tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, I guess," her father said, sounding disappointed.

"Why don't I uh, bring her in here for... ah, consultation?"

"If you can be discreet - ."

She felt Daniel's hand creeping down her back and onto her backside, and she jerked her head around and glared at him. He smiled smugly and squeezed her bottom. She had no choice but to keep quiet or expose them both, and she was filled with tension now at her father’s words, at the increasing possibility Daniel had been telling the truth.

She pulled the curtain aside just a crack to peek through it, and saw him sitting behind the desk only about ten feet away. Then a woman came into the room and closed the door behind her.

She was a tall redhead, her hair pulled back tightly in a bun. She wore a heavy blazer and horn rimmed glasses.

"Mr. Taylor," the woman smiled, coming forward as her father stood up.

Jessie thought the woman was ugly, and knew a moment's relief, but then she reached up behind her and did something, and her hair came tumbling down around her in rich, luxuriant curls. She took off her glasses and slid them into the breast pocket of her jacket, then slipped the jacket off to reveal a full and generous figure.

"Ellen, my dear," her father smiled, coming up to her and taking her hand.

"Mr. Moore tells me we won't be able to get together tonight," she said sadly.

"Yes, and I was so looking forward to it."

"Perhaps I can give you something to remember me by," she said with a smile.

Jessie watched with bated breath, almost ignoring Daniel's fingers, which were lewdly and rudely kneading her buttocks through her dress. She saw the woman's hands going down to her father's groin, then clenched her teeth as she unzipped his pants, then reached inside.

Both she and her father were smiling at each other as she drew out his cock. Jessie tried to avert her eyes as the woman slid down onto her knees in front of her father and engulfed his organ, taking it into her mouth.

She couldn't believe her bulging eyes as she saw the woman sucking her way up and down her father's cock, couldn't believe her father was standing there with a big smile on his lips, sliding his hands through the woman's red curls as she sucked his cock.

She was so stunned she could hardly breathe, and virtually ignored Daniel as he nibbled on her ear, and slid his other hand up her front to cup and squeeze her breasts.

"Oh, baby, baby!" her father groaned. "Oh yeahh! Suck it! Suck me off, baby! You sweet girl you! OHhhhh!"

Jessie's jaw dropped. Her father was always saying that to her, calling her his sweet girl, his baby. How dare he use the same words with some... some filthy whore!

"Oh yeah! That's it! That's iiit! That's my giiiirl!" he groaned.

This couldn't be happening. She tried to elbow Daniel in the ribs. "Stop it," she hissed.

He only grinned. She turned her eye back to the lewd and disgusting scene by the desk, trying to deafen herself as her father praised the whore in the same ways he praised her.

Then he pulled her to her feet and led her to the desk. He bent her over it and lifted her skirt up around her hips as she spread her legs and pushed her behind out at him. She wore no underwear, and his cock pierced her pussy lips quickly, then slid up into her belly.

"OOhh yeahhhh," she groaned.

"That's it, baby," her father gasped. "That's it, you beautiful slut. OOhh yeah! Shake that ass, baby! Shake it for daddy!"

"Do you think your old man wants to stick his dick up into you and not her?" Daniel whispered into her ear.

She felt a wave of nausea, and again tried to elbow him away without drawing attention to them. But it was no use, and she dared not let her father know she was here. It would be mortifying!

She watched her father thumping his hips into the woman's bare bottom for almost a minute, then jerked back and closed the curtain, tears filing her eyes at the betrayal of her trust. She'd always thought her father was so decent and honest, and yet he was as Daniel had described him, a whoremonger, and probably a thief as well.

For this she'd kept herself aloof from life? For him she'd been the good girl and never had any fun? For this man she'd given up her own life and acted as nothing more than his pretty little girl, shamming the voters, convincing them that the whoremonger was a decent family man?

She didn't care what Daniel did. She stood there miserably, listening to the gasps and groans, and the slap of hips against buttocks, while Daniel groped her breasts and buttocks and nuzzled at the nape of her neck. What did it matter what he did anyway?

After what seemed like forever but was not more than a few minutes, the sounds stopped. Her father and his whore got dressed, then both left... separately of course, and turned out the lights behind them.

Jessie punched Daniel in the ribs, making him fall back, then she flung the curtains back and stormed away from them.

"Hey, I was just having a little fun!" Daniel protested.

"Bastard!"

"Yup. Just like your old man."

She glared furiously at him, then turned and beheld the desk, which looked so innocent, which didn't look at all like a whore had been bending over it scant minutes ago, getting fucked by an adulterer.

"I'll have to tell mother," she said.

Again, Daniel laughed.

"Do you really think your father could so much as go to the bathroom without her finding out?" he grinned. "He's been like this for years, decades. Your mother knows everything that goes on in Washington. You think she doesn't know about this? Grow up, Jessie."

And he was right. She knew he was. The only things that had ever mattered to her mother were power and image. She wouldn't care what her father did as long as it kept her going to all the best parties, and kept all the best people coming to hers.

All of it was a sham. Everything she'd ever done. IT was all for nothing. All a sham.

"So how about you and me going away somewhere, and I'll show you how much better a cocksman I am than your old man," Daniel leered.

She stared at him, yet she couldn't hate him. He was what he was. At least he was honest about it, unlike her family.

She reached down, fingers digging into the thick material of her skirts as she glared at the desk. Then she pulled upwards, tugging the material up her legs as she stepped to the side of the desk, out of the shadow and into the moonlight streaming through the window.

She tugged her dress up around her hips and bent over, spreading her legs wide.

"What the fuck are - ."

"Do it," she snapped. "Fuck me! Right here!"

"You got it, baby," he gulped, jumping behind her.

His fingers went to her panties and started to lower them.

"No! Rip them off!" she shouted angrily.

He yanked back hard and she felt the material biting into her waist and thighs as he tore it loose. Her hips jerked up and back, but she settled forward again as her buttocks and sex were exposed to his lewd gaze. She felt embarrassed, no, mortified, and her skin flushed beet red. Yet she spread her legs apart for him.

She shuddered as she felt his hand on her bare pussy mound. He squeezed her roughly, digging his fingers into the soft flesh. Her mind was spinning, almost dazed with the enormity of what she was doing and what she had discovered.

She felt his fingers piercing her sex, prying her lips apart as the sought her tunnel. Then one of his fingers drove up into her. She grunted in some pain as it wiggled around in her pussy tube, going deeper and deeper.

"Dry as a bone," he said.

He moved around the corner of the desk and unzipped his pants, then took out his cock.

"You wanna be like daddy's whore. Suck me so I'm all wet," he said, pointing his cock at her face.

With barely a pause, her mind almost dead, she opened her lips and took it in, ignoring the taste, ignoring anything as she sucked. She bobbed her lips up and down, wetting down his prick so he could tear away her virginity, wanting to be a whore, wanting to be a slut.

She bobbed her lips up and down on his cock like she'd seen the red-head do, and made no effort to resist him as he gripped her hair, bunching it up around her head, and started to fuck his cock into her face. She held still, willingly suffering the humiliation of having him fuck her in the mouth, gagging several times as he fucked deeper.

Then Daniel pulled his cock out of her mouth and moved behind her. She wished her father would come now, would see her like this, would know what kind of girl his little baby was now.

She felt Daniel's cock rubbing against her slit, felt his wetness, her own spit as he pushed his thick cockhead against her opening and began to force it inside. She felt herself stretching more and more, and groaned, clenching her teeth as her pussy strained and ached.

She felt his cockhead forced into her, felt it slowly driving upwards into her cunt sleeve. It backed up, then moved forward, backed up, then pushed forward again as he sought to ease her pussy through its first fucking.

"Just do it!" she cried, wanting pain, wanting to be used like a cheap whore.

He pressed forward more resolutely, and she clenched her teeth as the pain mounted. His thick, bloated cock rammed upwards through the soft, virgin folds of her pussy tunnel until it met her hymen. It rammed into it, then through it, and she let out a brief cry of pain as his prong drove deeper still.

She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands as she trembled and closed her eyes. His cock felt like a log was sliding up into her belly. It ached, and she felt impaled on the thing as it moved higher and higher.

She could feel it in her gut, twisting around inside her. It was an amazing sensation, but the aching in her mind and heart and of course, in her pussy made it impossible to appreciate it. She felt his hands on her buttocks, his fingers digging into her ass meat, and knew yet more embarrassment.

Then he thrust deeper still. She gasped in shock, feeling her guts cramping as his prick jammed up her pussy to the hilt. His thing felt waaaay up in her belly her insides heaved and twisted as it throbbed and jerked against them.

She felt his hips pressing against her buttocks, and knew she finally had his whole thing inside her. His hands moved up her sides, then under them, forcing her chest off the desk so he could grope her breasts again. He squeezed them roughly as he ground his hips against her buttocks.

Then he began to fuck her.

$5.95   33,000 words