Fantasia

Ruby's is the place where dreams go to die. The dreams of a young girl trying to make an honest buck. The dreams of a lonely man trying to get some female companionship. The dreams of everything inbetween. You had been here countless times, not to use the wares which were allowed to you for free (albeit, unwilling), but because this was where she was: Fantasia. Every man's fantasy.

Tom-Tom smiled as you both went inside. A bouncer tried to stop him, but you glared at him, and he came in as your Plus One. Sigh. He immediately contorted his face between disgust and delight, witnessing the fully naked 'beauties' dancing on their respective polls, as the early evening crowd dwindled in. He took a seat near a big black woman and starting pulling out dollar bills that you were surprised to see he had. You headed toward the champagne room.

"Mister, you can't come in here!" yelled the new guy, before he was pulled aside by an associate who told him otherwise.

You were alone now and lit up an unsanctioned cigarette, as you waited. Waited for her. It took less than five minutes for her to arrive, through the beads that constituted a door. She was naked, fully, as the blacklight that illuminated the interior showcased an unexpected hue, but one you'd grown accustomed. Glitter glittered her face, marking intricate designs that would be smeared in seconds. It circled her nipples, her belly button, and showcased her otherwise cleanshaven pussy.

"Hey Daddy," she said, your baby girl. Within moments, she hopped on pop, your pants falling to the ankles as you faced her, sitting up, as she gyrated around your inserted member. "It's been a while since I've been fucked," you said, with a smile. "You're my third fuck today," she responded, between fake moans.

Fantasia, as she now chose to be called, was your baby girl, albeit the oldest in an unknown line you've probably conceived over the years. She was your mother's child, borne of incest during those first days, and raised by your parents after your sister's death. By the time she became a rebellious teen, you had mellowed out, moved into a nice home with a "wife", and began studying to become a police officer. You took her into your home and raised her for the last few years. When she came of age, you raped her, of course, but more out of routine than necessity. She had to learn the ways of this world sooner, rather than later, and your dick was the best educator at that moment.

And she loved it. Sex was her calling. You had suspected as such before you discovered first hand she wasn't a virgin, but never questioned her about her love life. She knew what you did with the many women you brought home, so it'd be a little hypocritical if you told her what to do with her time. She became a stripper, and eventually a whore, and was always a good contact for the underworld in this city. You still worried for her safety, though, but at least she was always willing to share her pussy with you, free of charge.

You came into Fantasia some point after she finished her ministrations, and she smiled as you adjusted your glasses to see her face. "Sorry, I'm on the pill," she said, cuddling next to you. "I don't care."

You tell her how you need her to investigate the twins. To fuck them and see what they're doing behind closed doors. It'll be rape, no doubt, and maybe very abusive, but nothing she hadn't experienced before. She frowns but agrees. If she does good, and she always does good, she might get on their good side and be a mole in their operation. Tom-Tom rushes in as you wipe the glitter off your cock. "We have to go!" he says, as you notice some blood on his collar. Fuck.

You kiss your daughter, grab the revolver and try to duck out an emergency exit, as burly bouncers come busting in. "What the fuck did you do, Tom-Tom?" you yell, as the owner cocks a shotgun. "Sorry," was his only reply as you roll your eyes and burst open the door. You two are down the street before they even know what's going on.