Chapter 74: The Final Erasure
The afternoon light was thick and golden, honeyed dust motes swirling in the slants that cut across the cream-colored rug. Elise knelt by the sofa, a coloring book open before her. She’d found it in a drawer. It was filled with simple gardens and fat, smiling bees. She hummed tunelessly, a crayon gripped in her fist, carefully staying within the lines of a large sunflower.
The click of the front door lock was her favorite sound.
She dropped the crayon, her head snapping up. A wide, genuine smile broke across her face. She scrambled to her feet, the pale grey dress swirling around her thighs. He stood in the entryway, shrugging off his tailored suit jacket, loosening his tie. He looked tired, and majestic, and like hers.
“Daddy!” she chirped, launching herself across the room.
He caught her with a soft oof, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist, her face burying itself in the crisp cotton of his dress shirt. He smelled of outside, of cool air and polished boardrooms. She inhaled deeply, nuzzling. His hands came to rest on her back, one moving up to cradle the nape of her neck.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice a warm rumble in his chest that she felt through her whole body.
“Missed you.” The words were muffled against his shirt.
“I missed you too.” His fingers stroked her hair. “Were you good?”
“Colored a picture.” She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her hazel eyes shining. “For you.”
“My good girl.” The praise lit her up from the inside, simple and brilliant.
She held the hug for another beat, then, as he released her, she sank. Not to the floor, but to her knees directly in front of him. Her small hands came to rest on his polished leather shoes, then slid up to his calves. She looked up at him, her expression one of open, eager devotion. She nuzzled her cheek against the fine wool of his trouser leg, right over his shin.
Then she turned her head, pressing her face into the growing bulge at his crotch. She mouthed at it through the fabric, a soft, wet kiss. She nuzzled there, rubbing her nose and lips along the hard, distinct shape of him. A low sigh escaped her.
“Already so happy to see Daddy?” he asked, looking down at her. He slid a hand into her hair, not guiding, just holding.
“Mmm-hmm.” She kissed the outline of his cock again, her breath hot and damp through the wool. “Wanted to say hello to him.”
He chuckled, the sound rich and condescending in the best way. “Such a sweet, thoughtful girl. You know just how to welcome me home.”
She beamed at the praise, her fingers fiddling with his belt buckle. He didn’t stop her. She undid it, then the button of his trousers, the zipper parting with a hushed sound. She tugged the fabric down just enough to free him. He was already fully hard, jutting out from the dark thatch of hair. She didn’t take him in her mouth right away. Instead, she leaned in and nuzzled the length of him with her cheek, a kittenish gesture. She planted a soft, chaste kiss on the swollen head, then another on the thick vein running underneath.
“Hello,” she whispered to his cock, her breath a feather touch. She looked up at Julian, seeking approval.
His green eyes were hooded, a faint smile on his lips. “Go on, princess. Show him how happy you are.”
That was all the permission she needed. Her lips parted, and she took the broad head into her mouth, sucking gently. She lapped at the slit, tasting the clean, salty pre-come that had already gathered. She bobbed her head, taking him deeper, remembering the morning’s lesson. Her throat relaxed more easily now. She focused on the rhythm, on the heavy weight on her tongue, on the faint groans from above her.
“That’s it,” he coaxed, his hand tightening in her hair. “Use that pretty mouth. You’re getting so good at this. My own personal cocksucker.”
The crude words, wrapped in his velvet voice, sent a thrill through her. She moaned around him, the vibration making his hips jerk slightly. She took him deeper, until her nose was pressed into his skin, until she gagged softly and pulled back, a string of saliva bridging her lips to his glistening shaft.
“Daddy…” she panted, looking up, her eyes watering. “Want you in my cunny now. Please? Wanna feel your cummies inside.”
The infantilized plea, coming from her spit-slicked mouth, was the most potent aphrodisiac he’d ever known. He pulled her up by her arms, her dress riding high. He turned her around, bending her over the back of the leather sofa. The supple leather was cool against her flushed cheek. He pushed the soft grey fabric up around her waist, exposing her bare ass and the pink, glistening folds between her legs. He ran a thumb over her, spreading the wetness.
“So eager. So wet already. Just from sucking dick like a good little slut.” He positioned himself, the head of his cock nudging her entrance. “You want Daddy’s cummies in this hungry little cunny?”
“Yes! Please, Daddy, fill me up!”
He slammed into her, one brutal thrust that seated him completely. She screamed, a sound of pure, overwhelming fullness. He didn’t wait, setting a punishing pace, pounding into her from behind. Each drive pushed her hard against the sofa. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, his grunts, her sharp, frantic cries.
“This is your home,” he growled, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips. “This cock. This is all you need. Forget your books. Forget your pretty, stupid theories. You’re just a hole for me to use. A warm, tight little cunt.”
“Yes, Daddy! Your cunt! Yours!” The words tumbled out, a litany of surrender. The coil in her belly was pulled taut, screaming.
He snaked a hand around her hip, his fingers finding her swollen clit—her ‘princess button.’ He rubbed it in hard, tight circles, perfectly in time with his thrusts. The dual assault shattered her.
“I’m gonna—Daddy, I’m gonna make a cummy!”
“Do it. Soak my cock. Let me feel you come all over me.”
Her orgasm ripped through her, violent and convulsing. Her inner walls clamped down on him in rapid, fluttering pulses. She sobbed into the leather, her body shaking. The intense squeeze tipped him over the edge. With a final, deep plunge, he buried himself and let go, his release pumping into her in hot, relentless jets. He held himself there, grinding against her as he emptied himself, filling her up just as she’d begged.
They stayed like that, connected, both breathing raggedly. Slowly, he pulled out. A trickle of his spend immediately escaped down her inner thigh. He gently turned her around. She was boneless, her face tear-streaked, a dazed, blissful smile on her lips. He pulled her dress down.
He sat on the sofa and pulled her into his lap, cradling her like a child. She curled into him, her head on his shoulder.
“Did I… did I do good, Daddy?” she asked, her voice small and sleepy.
He kissed her forehead, his own breath still evening out. “You were perfect, my sweet girl. The best welcome home a man could ever have.” He stroked her hair, watching the golden light begin to deepen towards dusk. “My perfect, empty-headed little toy.”