And even more than she was afraid of the boys hurting her more, she was afraid of what her daddy would do if she didn’t try her best to be a good girl. So she closed her eyes and put forth all her effort to control her rebellious gag reflex, and swallowed the boy’s revolting deposit of sperm and feces.
Coughing and choking, desperately fighting not to vomit, she collapsed and curled into ball on her side, cradling her abdomen, crying again in earnest now.
Danny stood and began to dress as Trey walked over to her, jerking his once-again-stiff cock as full speed.
Seeing her lips stained with Danny’s shit, her hair soaked their piss and her eye red and swollen from his own cum, he felt one final orgasm approaching, and aimed his cock before firing a final load.
She felt the warm wet splash of her cum on her face as she lay crying in the dirt. She knew she should wipe it up and eat it, but she simply couldn’t.
The pain in her gut and the freezing cold were overpowering, and they were merely icing on the cake of her deep, throbbing shame and humiliation. Her daddy had trusted her to keep his prize intact, and to be faithful to him, and she had failed. Despite all her efforts, she hadn’t been her daddy’s good girl.
Sobbing uncontrollably, she covered her face with her muddy hands and wished it could all go away.
Picking up her clothes, Danny took her phone from a pocket and examined it for a moment, ensuring that the vibrate function was set to maximum intensity. He savored a long look down at the shuddering girl before doing exactly what they had done to Tara.
Pulling open her tiny, round ass cheeks, he jammed the phone into her clenched asshole.
He heard her whimper and retch into her hands as he used his middle finger to shove it as far up her ass as he could, past where her own tiny hands could retrieve it. He wiped the brown streaks from his finger with the girl’s sock as Trey picked up a two-foot-long stick, about two inches in diameter.
It was caked with mud and covered in sharp protrusions, and the little girl screamed when Trey rammed it into her bleeding, bruised cunt, bashing the jagged tip against her cervix until he was sure it couldn’t go any farther into her battered and broken body. Slapping her hands away from her face, Danny took the shit-stained sock and stuffed it into her wailing mouth. “We’ll be back in the morning,” he said.
“If you’ve moved anything, I’ll cut you open and leave you out here for the animals to chew on.” Trey grabbed her clothes and tucked them under his arm, and the two began making their way back to the road, with no intention of actually returning.
Naked, cold, and alone, covered in piss from two boys whose names she didn’t even know, her stomach full of shit and cum and piss from two boys who weren’t her daddy, all three holes filled, and with more cum slowly drying on her face, she lay in the mud and sobbed for what seemed like hours.
Each sob shook the jagged stick in her cunt, and the taste of her shit mingled with her sweaty sock and the rest of what she had sucked and swallowed, and the miasma filled her mouth and nose until her entire world smelled and tasted of nothing but filth.
She managed to stop crying for a moment, but just then, she was jolted by the ringing of her phone, deep in her bowels – it was a violently nauseating, painful sensation, made even worse when she recognized the muffled ringtone – it was her daddy, calling to see why she wasn’t home. It rang for a full minute, each vibration twisting her insides into a painful, debilitating knot.
As the ringing finally stopped, feeling the blood from her cunt dripping down her thigh and pooling an the muddy grass, she began crying again. The phone rang a dozen more times throughout the night, but besides being too deep in her ass for her to retrieve it, she had lost the will to move at all. She lay shivering in the dirt for hours and hours, each ring re-igniting the pain in her gut and cunt.
Her daddy called over and over again, but eventually stopped.
After it became clear he had stopped calling, she became truly terrified. Her daddy had given up on her. She had been a bad girl – she hadn’t come home to make his dinner, and she had given up what was his to a pair of dirty young boys who she didn’t even know. He wouldn’t want her back. She had been a bad girl. Breaking down under the crushing guilt, she found herself unable to breathe.
Her heart raced in panic as she realized that she would lie here all night, and that her daddy would never want her worthless holes again. She screamed, then, a wailing, desperate scream, stifled by her shit-stained sock and finally petering out under her own guilt and self-hatred. She cried until she couldn’t cry anymore, and froze until she could feel nothing but the pain from her violated, abused cunt.
Every moment was spent re-living her failure and deflowerment, or imagining her daddy’s disgust at her pathetic failure. For hours and hours she lie there, consumed by her guilt and shame and terror, pain wracking her every breath.
But finally, after an eternity of misery, as dawn was just beginning to break, she heard a voice calling her name. Her daddy’s voice. She tried to move but couldn’t; all she could do was open her eyes to see her daddy’s boots running to her.
He stopped and she could feel his body heat as he bent down over her, see his face as he rolled her, unresisting, onto her back.
She began to cry anew as she looked into his eyes. She saw him look her beaten form up and down, and she mewled in pain as he yanked the stick out of her pussy, each bump and point tearing her flesh again on its way out. He stood up and called her phone with his, causing the sickening vibration to fill her insides again.
He leaned down, his eyes blazing with anger, his face only inches from her own, and he pulled the sock out of her mouth, tossing it aside. His eyes flicked over her body again, pausing on her pulverized, bloodstained snatch. He drew back his hand and struck her cheek with a force she couldn’t have imagined, leaving her ears ringing and adding another stinging pain to her cacophony of torment.
He spat on her face, and then slapped her again when she tried weakly to lap up the spit with her still-brown tongue. Lightheaded from the twin blows, she tried to be a good girl and keep from crying, but she couldn’t stop the tears from filling her eyes.
He grabbed her by her ankle and began dragging her broken, limp body through the woods, her hair catching in the bramble, her head bashing against the twisting mosaic of tree roots, mud filling and leaves filling her soiled mouth.
As he yanked his sobbing daughter across the rough undergrowth back toward his car, her daddy stopped to jam a pile of mud and leaves into her mouth to shut her up, slapping her face again for emphasis, her right cheek now a motley of deep purple and vivid red.
And although she was barely audible now through her new impromptu gag, she cried even harder; not because of the pain from her cunt, nor the constant bashing and battering as she was dragged across the forest floor, nor the fear of her inevitable punishment.