Taking her home

The engine idled outside her building. Streetlight cut across the dashboard. Through the passenger window Samyukta could see them clearly—her mother and younger sister standing on the front steps with grocery bags, talking, laughing at something on a phone. They were less than twenty feet away. The tinted glass kept them from seeing inside.

I kept the leash wrapped around my fist and slid my free hand under the coat. The knotted skirt was still around her waist. I pushed two fingers into her without warning. She was swollen and wet from earlier. She jerked, a sharp gasp leaving her throat, and tried to close her legs. The cuffs behind her back and the collar stopped her.

“Daddy—no—please—they’re right there—my mom—my sister—please don’t—”

I curled my fingers and started fucking her with them, slow and deep. At the same time I pinched her left nipple hard through the open coat, twisting until she whimpered. Her eyes stayed locked on the steps. Her sister turned and looked toward the street for a second. Samyukta made a broken sound and shook her head.

“Daddy… please… they can almost see… it hurts… please stop… I’m scared… please…”

I leaned over and bit her lower lip, hard enough that she tasted blood. She cried out into my mouth. I kept my fingers moving inside her, pinching and twisting the nipple in time with the thrusts. Tears ran down her face. She was begging in a whisper now, voice cracking every time her family shifted on the steps.

“Please… Daddy… too much… my nipple… please… they might look… I can’t… it hurts… please let me go inside… please…”

I added a third finger and pressed my thumb against her clit, rubbing while I bit her lip again. She sobbed, hips twitching helplessly against the seat. Her mother laughed at something. The sound carried. Samyukta clenched around my fingers and came with a small, wrecked moan she tried to swallow, whole body shaking, eyes wide and wet as she stared at her family.

I didn’t stop. I kept fucking her with my fingers through the aftershocks, pinching harder, biting her lip until it was swollen and marked. She cried openly now, begging in broken pieces.

“Daddy—please—stop—too much—I can’t—they’re right there—please—my arms—please—I’m sorry—please…”

Only when her sister started walking toward the curb did I pull my fingers out. I wiped them on her thigh, then on her tear-streaked cheek. She was trembling so hard the leash rattled. I put the car in drive and pulled away from the building. She watched her family disappear in the side mirror, sobbing quietly.

“Daddy… why… they almost saw… please… it hurt so much… where are we going…”

“Back to the hotel.”

She cried the whole drive, asking in a small voice if she was safe, if her lip was bleeding, if we were done. I didn’t answer until we were in the room again. I uncuffed her, took the coat off, and made her stand in front of the mirror while I cleaned the dried wax and wiped the worst of the marks. Her lip was swollen. Her nipples were dark and sore. She flinched every time I touched her.

When she was steady I recuffed her wrists in front, left the collar on, and sat her on the edge of the bed. I crouched so we were eye level.

“Tomorrow night you’re going to text me. You’re going to invite me to your home. Properly. Like you want me there. You’ll tell your family you’re having a friend over. You’ll open the door and let me in. Understand?”

She stared at me, eyes still wet, voice barely there. “Daddy… my home… they might be there… please… I don’t… what’s next if I say no…”

“You won’t say no. You’ll invite me. And you’ll be ready.”

She swallowed, nodded once, and whispered, “Okay… Daddy… I’ll invite you…”

I kissed her swollen lip, gentle this time, and left the cuffs on while she sat there shaking.