Daddy Vinnie’s Bedtime Stories

Molesting Little Stories
Send comments and requests to daddy.vinnie@gmail.com

Never Second (March 2012; posted Oct. 14, 2012)

Safely in Daddy’s Arms (March 2012; posted Oct. 16, 2012)

Molesting Little (August 29, 2012)

As She Lay Sleeping (October 14, 2012)

Sex with Sleeping Lolita (October 25, 2012)

Nap Time (October 26, 2012)

My Little Captive (December 20, 2012)

Breeding (June 27, 2013)

Daddy’s Deal (February 18, 2013)

Daddy’s Deal
by Daddy Vinnie

Daddy’s been gone for a day and another day. I know what that is because I’ve had two dinners, and each dinner is a day.  Teddy and I watch out the window with these lace drapes to see if his old orange truck is coming up the dirt road, but all I see are empty fields with little yellow and white flowers. Way off is an old barn and a smoke stack that doesn’t have smoke. As far as I can see way way out there is the shadow of our town on the hill.  Daddy called it a silly-wet when the sun sets on it and it’s all shadows of houses and buildings.  He’ll come from there. He said soon. But it’s been a day and another day already.

Ronny’s nice and all but he smells funny, like the cigarettes him and Daddy always smoke and like hair scent when Daddy makes his hair all shiny like when he says he has a date. I know when his hair’s shiny that he’ll come home and smell like alky-hol. Those times are mostly when he does those things. Sometimes he’ll bring someone home, a woman with long legs and black lacy stockings with clips on them around her waist.  I know because I can see through the knothole. I’m not supposed to look but I do anyway. Sometimes they’ll have wigs and lots of make-up and red lips like cherries or strawberries. He likes to hold them close like he does with me when he smells like alky-hol, but I know I can sleep when he was one of his women friends over.  They’re mostly nice and tell me how cute I am in the morning when I have to cook them breakfast, a fried egg and bacon, not burnt, and toast with margarine and strong coffee, “Black like my women,” Daddy says, but they’re never black. One time one of them had lots of stockings and under garments and kept telling Daddy “no” and he pushed her and grabbed her and her hair came off and when they was scrambling I could see she had something between her legs like Daddy. Daddy was really mad. I got it good that night.  After she left. But Ronny’s not like that. He’s nice and doesn’t say much. He tells me what a good girl I am. And I am. Daddy said I had to be a very good girl and he’d bring me something.

He’s not my real Daddy, but he is kinda. He adopted me. I was sitting on the curb crying one day. I missed school again and was in trouble. They kept saying school wasn’t challenging enough for me but I hated it. The boys would push me into corners and squeeze my boobies. And then they’d reach down and put their fingers on me and whisper nasty things into my neck.  Once, three of them held me and the biggest boy ripped my panties. A teacher came around the corner just then and they ran off. I got in trouble though. I ran from there. But there was nowhere to go. My real Dad had run off long time ago and Mama wasn’t home much. I watched a lot of TV and laid on my bed and read my princess books dreaming of my prince who would take me away. That’s when I met Daddy. It was a bad day but the best one because I met him.  He had his hair all shiny and a suit on with a tie and everything. I was scared at first but he was nice. He said I was just a little girl in a big scary world. He said I needed someone to look after me, that we all need someone. No one had ever said that to me before.  He took me home, to his pad, as he called it, our little shack outside of town, with all the wood bare and it’s cold but has a stove you light with sticks and fire.  He said he’d keep me safe. And I could be little and color and it was small so it wouldn’t take much to keep up and keep clean and that I could do that and I didn’t have to go to school, that he could tell right off how smart I was and was of age anyway and that college would just be more boys and teachers and that he had big plans, big plans for us, and we could just hang out and I could read my princess books and it’d be like in the books always. It was like a dream, everything I wanted. After a while, I could relax and be little all the time! “No more homework, no more books, no more teachers dirty looks!” And ice cream for dinner! I still wish I had my H.K stuffie from my old house. It’s the only thing I miss.  And the TV of course. Daddy says we can’t have TV because there’s nowhere to plug it in. I like the quiet though. I can think and jumble up nursery rhymes in my head and no one says it’s wrong or bad. 

I remember the first day I cried in front of Daddy, I mean really cried, not the blubbering he says I do and that he stops right away. He was being very quiet afterwards. And I just started crying and sobbing and couldn’t stop.  He sat up and said, “Oh fer Christ’s sake, what now?” And I wrapped my arms around him and said, “I wish you was my real Daddy.” And he kinda softened and patted my hair. When I stopped crying, he went to the porch and smoked. He smoked three times and came inside and said, “I got it. I’m gonna adopt you. So I can be your real Daddy and you can be my little girl and you’ll do everything I say and we’ll be happy all the time.”  I think I was in shock. My eyes never opened that wide before, like I hurt my eyelids. He laughed at me. I jumped up and bounced and ran to him and hugged him and said, “You can do that? Of course you can! You can do anything. You’re my Daddy! You’re my one true Daddy!”  He hugged me and kissed me on the neck and laughed and tousled my hair.  He said he had to go make a call and arrange everything and I should get all ready and we’d celebrate when he got back.

He came back two days later, with some flowers and a bag of Cracker Jack. His shiny hair was gone but I could tell he had just combed it even though it hung down in front of his eyes. He beamed his big smile and threw the Cracker Jack bag at me.

“Here, open it!”

I tried to open the bag and then it gave and went all over the place.  

“Get the prize, kiddo.  There.”

It was in a little red and white striped bag. It had tape on it like someone had opened it already. I hoped it was tattoos, I love Cracker Jack tattoos and the little comic and game books. But it was a ring, and not like a Cracker Jack ring, it was metal. And it had a gap in the band so it could be bent to adjust to my finger. Daddy said only the specialest rings are made that way.  And that I’m worth the best money can buy. Other rings have to go to jewelry stores and they get sized and it takes a lot of time and money but who wants to do that? When you want a ring, you’re excited and want it now. He told me later how he had slit the bag with a very sharp knife and put a real ring in the Cracker Jack and then sealed the bag back up so I wouldn’t know so it’d be all a surprise and stuff.  Daddy’s so smart. He said that getting adopted is kinda like getting married so he wanted me to wear this ring.  It’s the most gorgeousest ring ever. It’s silvery and has a clear stone on it that changes colors. Daddy called it a mood ring and said it has real crystals in it and that crystals are expensive like what they make chandeliers out of and so it was the real deal. And he always winks and puts his elbow in my ribs and says “now I’ll know when you’re in the mood.”  I don’t get it, but I laugh because he thinks it’s funny.  I just like how it changes colors all the time. And if I touch it, it turns very dark, almost black.

When I got adopted, it was our specialist day ever and it was Valentine’s Day too! We were in a church but not the main part. It was a toy room in the back where they take care of the kids when the sermons are going on. I was playing with the Playskool People in a car and zooming all over the road on the rug while we waited for the preacher man.  Daddy was pacing. When he arrived, panting, he closed the door quickly behind him and said we had to hurry. We stood there in front of the preacher man, except he wasn’t a preacher. And he had me say do I take this Daddy to be my one and only Daddy, and he said do you take this little girl to be your bestest little girl. And then he put the ring on my finger and he kissed me hard and with lots of tongue like he does in private and we all hugged. As Daddy was walking the preacher man to the door, he took something from his pocket, some money and started to hand it to him. They stood outside in front of the big glass window with the little crisscross metal threads in it. The preacher man shook his head and pushed Daddy’s money back to him. I saw him nod in my direction. I couldn’t really hear them though through the glass. Daddy held the preacher man by the shoulders and slapped his shoulders and then Daddy stroked his chin and rubbed his thumb against his fingers like when he says something costs a lot of money and we can’t buy it.  The preacher man reached into his pocket and gave Daddy something and then I heard the door lock and he closed the blinds. Except it wasn’t Daddy. He told me Daddy said I was to be good and that he’d be right back.

I’m always good for Daddy.

I really wanted Daddy for our special day and didn’t know where he went. I was kinda scared. Later he said I was the bestest girl ever and what I did was more than good, that I was an angel I was so good and that if I’m always good like that for Daddy, I’ll get whatever I want, toys and stuffies and maybe even a place where we can get a TV or one of those little players that use batteries so I can watch cartoons on it. 

When the preacher man was done, he was just laying there panting hard on top of me, bent over the table, with his lips pressed against my back, both of our pants around our ankles and then a hard knock three times against the door.  I thought a rattlesnake had bit him he jolted so hard still inside me and grabbed his pants so fast and then I felt my shorts being pulled up and Daddy’s hand grabbing mine and saying we had to go, now! He yanked my arm and we ran to the outdoors and around the corner.  Daddy was in a real good mood that day and he drank lots of alky-hol and we ate restaurant food and ice cream twice and when we got home, we played lots of big girl games, that’s what Daddy calls them, until Daddy started snoring in the middle of it all.  By that time it was dark and I was sleepy too. 

The bestest thing, though, is I got my one and only Daddy and my ring and soon after Daddy brought me the bestest stuffy ever, a big brown soft bear that I can sleep against when Daddy’s not there. It’s bigger than me, even. Teddy and I watch out the window for Daddy when he’s gone, hiding behind the lace curtains when cars come by. Sometimes he’s gone for a few days.  Once we was gone for almost two weeks and I had to use the ‘mergency money we hid under the floorboards. It’s twenty dollars which Daddy says is like almost worth a whole half hour sometimes during slow times but he got mad when he saw I didn’t buy good stuff, no eggs and milk just gummy candies and sodas and the frosted animal cookies I like.  He said I’d have to earn the ‘mergency money back because I had wasted it.

*    *     *     *     *

Daddy always liked that one diner just outside of town.  Barney, the cook, wears a dirty white apron and a white hat, and a cigarette hangs from his mouth. He waves to Daddy from the kitchen and makes his way over, wiping his big greasy hands on his dirty apron and shakes Daddy’s hand roughly. He takes a big puff on his cigarette and blows the smoke at the ceiling and then asks me how I am. He lifts my chin with one big, calloused smoky finger so I look him in the eye as I shyly tell him, “I’m okay, Sir, thank you for asking, Sir,” just like Daddy taught me to say. 

“That’s a good girl. Always so polite. You must make your Daddy proud.” 

Daddy just chuckles and shakes his head. Barney pours coffee for Daddy, and Daddy waves his hand over the cup to stop it.

“You seen Ronny today?”

“Nah, but it’s Sunday. He usually comes in about 11:00, before the church crowd.”

“Mind if I sit in that booth in the back?”

“Go right ahead. More coffee?”

“Yeah, top it off. And grab me one of them Danishes for the kiddo.”

I perk up at this. I usually only get water because Daddy says we have to watch expenses, and maybe sometimes a little sugar when Daddy’s in a good mood.  I can lick my finger and then pour the sugar on it and suck the sugar from it.  It’s sweet and good, like Coca-Cola.  Daddy had me suck the sugar off Barney’s finger once. It smelled like cigarette, but the sugar made it okay.  Barney said I was the best sugar-licker he’d ever met!  Today, though, I get a Danish!

I hope it’s one of those kinds with the nuts on top and brown sugar inside and cut like a bear’s paw.  Those are my favorite, but I’ll take whatever Daddy gives to me. It’s best when I just do what he says.

Daddy sits next to me in the booth with his arm on the backrest. I color on the placemat. It’s got little boxes all around the edges for car dealers and real estate listings and Lion’s club and I use a blue ink pen that Daddy gave me and draw mustaches and eyebrows and little devil goatees and horns on all the people, even the girls.  And I color in all the O’s and A’s and letters that have spaces to fill in and I make hearts over all the I’s.

Barney brings over the Danish and more coffee for Daddy. He gives Daddy a clean ashtray and takes away the dirty one.  And then it gets real quiet in the back of the diner.  This is church time, Daddy says, and we like to come here when it’s quiet so Daddy can think.  I poke my finger in the black jelly of the Danish and lick it off. Daddy cuts it for me so there are little bites.  And I eat them one at a time. Daddy starts drumming his fingers on the table, which means he’s nervous. So I’m real good and quiet and sit there good so it doesn’t disturb him when he’s nervous. He can get a little angry when he’s like that, but I don’t like to make Daddy angry ever.

Ronny slides in on the other side of the booth. And I feel him kick my shins.  He fidgets in his seat and his hands rub each other like he’s washing them.

“Oh, sorry kid. Didn’t mean to kick you.”

I see him looking at me like he’s trying not to look at me.

“Hey.  Good to see you again.”  He talks to Daddy.

“So, did you get it?”

“Yeah, there’s a place in the mountains. No one will be there for a week.  There’s a hot tub on the patio, and a gas grill, four bedrooms, three baths, completely furnished, stocked with food. Since it’s off-season, there’s no one around. Absolutely no one.

“And if someone comes by?”

“No, really, there’s absolutely no one there. And if someone comes by, just say you’re looking at the place thinking about buying it.  Tell him I gave you the key and you’re just looking. Just make sure it’s clean when you’re done.”

Daddy just stares at Ronny and smokes his cigarette. It dangles from his lip and he inhales and then I can see him swallow and then he lets it come out his nose all without touching it.  I like to watch him smoke but I don’t like it myself. It’s smelly and makes me cough. 

“And I left the numbers you want on the table. She said she has three friends, two for sure. And they’ve got blow.  All taken care of, favor of a favor of a favor. I’m telling you, you may need some energy drinks or something. You sure you don’t want company or help? It’s just you? Fuck, man. If I had three or four women and all that stuff and it was just me…”  Ronny just kind of looks down and laughs to himself and shakes his head. 

“You’ll have even better, Ronny. Trust me.”

That’s when I can feel Ronny staring at me hard. He can only see me from my stomach up since I’m sitting at the booth, but he doesn’t look me in the eyes much. He looks at my boobies and my hair and my mouth. My tank top has a scoop in it and has a little purple ribbon along the seams and little white buttons that Daddy doesn’t like me to button up, not even one.  The purple bows in my pigtails match the purple ribbon on my shirt but that’s just an accident because we bought them separate.  And I have just a little pink on my lips, just enough to make them smell like candy and shine a little. That’s usually when Daddy likes to kiss off my lipstick. He says I’m deeee-lekable. 

When Ronny looks at my mouth, his tongue kind of licks the corner of his lips and his hands move faster. And then he tosses his head to throw the hair out of his eyes. His eyes dart toward mine and then look away again. 

Ronny slides a key across the table.  Daddy taps his fingers on it but he doesn’t pick it up.

“Hey I can get in trouble for this as it is.”

Daddy withdraws his hand and continues to stare at Ronny, still smoking. Then he crushes the cigarette into the ashtray.

After a few moments, Daddy pushes my side to get out of the booth and says, “C’mon, kiddo. We’re wasting time, here.”

Ronny holds up his hands. “No wait, wait.”  Daddy sits back down. 

Ronny leans in real close. “C’mon man. Tell me how old she is.”  He’s looking at Daddy, pleading. And he’s looking at me, his eyes rapid-firing between us like he’s watching a ping-pong match. 

Daddy leans back against the booth back and fingers another cigarette from his pack and lights it. 

“Ronny, it’s better that you don’t know.  She’s old enough.  She wears my ring.  But she can be whatever age you want.  Her looks change.”

Ronny flops back against the seat back and moans, “Fuck!” under his breath.

“You can talk to her and then all of a sudden, it’s like when she’s coloring. I don’t know how she does it. It just happens.  Her voice changes. It’s not like she forces it, like she makes it intentionally high pitched or something. Nothing like that. And it’s like she becomes a kid again, her face smooths out, her eyes get this innocence about them, and she has this look of utter devotion to please Daddy. She ain’t gonna do this for you, Ronny. She’ll do this because I tell her to. It’s the most fucking coolest thing. And it’s legal! Hell…. I wouldn’t want to do nothing with no real kids anyway.  Fuck that. I ain’t no criminal, ain’t getting my balls chopped off in jail.  Besides, that’s just sick.  This is different.  She calls it being “little.”  And I hardly ever see her be anything else, not since we’ve been at the shack. “

Ronny starts to say something but stops.  He’s reaching into his pants pocket.  Or adjusting.  I’ve seen Daddy’s friends do that before.

“Oh sometimes it’s annoying, when she whines about toys. But you know what? You can slap her.  And it’s okay. She likes it. She’ll bite her lip and stomp up and down and hug me hard.  ‘Do it again, Daddy,’ she’ll say.  It makes her wet. It really does! So I’ll slap her a bit. Not to really hurt her, just to lube her up.

“And when she gets super annoying with the kid stuff, I’ll go out, pick up a coupla women or whores, bring ‘em back and have some adult time. You know how it is. And she watches from the other room, through the wall. I’ve seen her. I like that. She thinks I don’t know.”

Daddy looks at me then, with this warning look. His eyes catch mine and I blush and look down and keep drawing on the placemat and pick at the Danish crumbs, what’s left of them. Every once in a while, I look at Ronny. He’s nice looking, not as big as Daddy, but he’s got nice arm tattoos and pretty brown eyes and the stubble on his chin like I like, the kind that tickles when they kiss me down there.

Daddy leans toward Ronny then and speaks lower.  It’s harder to hear them.

“But it’s like … like being in school again, like every night I get to take a virgin to bed.  Oh yeah, she’s fucking tight like that, too, Ronny. It’s okay. It’s all play. You get to tell her what age you want her to be. But she’s legal, it’s okay.”

I can see Ronny sweating. It’s dripping down his temples and his underarms are wet. “But doesn’t that make me a, you know, a pedophile?”

“Ronny, fuck! We been over this. No, it doesn’t. Pedophiles are sick, mentally ill! They prey on real children. And it sucks. It’s the worst. She ain’t a kid, Ronny. Hell, she almost graduated high school, if I hadn’t’ve saved her, she woulda, too! Helluva lot smarter than you or me, she is.  But she LIKES being a little and she likes pleasing Daddy, so I let her be a little as much as she wants, which for her is all the time. And then I got thinking, because she’ll do anything for Daddy, Ronny.  Anything.”

When Daddy says “anything” like that, I know I’m supposed to put on my best smile and cutest smile and put my head down a little and look up at whoever is across the table from me with my innocent eyes and bite my lip.  He tells me that makes him twitch every time I look like that.

“Okay okay.”  Ronny looks at me, biting his lip and looks at Daddy. He pulls some money from his pocket and counts it out, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten, like I count in hopscotch. It looks like ‘mergency money, but it’s different. There are two zeros and a bald man with side hair like a clown on it.   I’ve never seen those before.  Daddy said this’d be a big one but I didn’t know what he meant. He said that all told it’d be like getting five.  He doesn’t even move toward it. He just sits back and lights another cigarette.

“Fuck, man. Nothing’s that good.” Ronny says. 

Daddy squeezes my thigh and I make my lips pouty and tilt my head sideways and then bite my tongue in the side of my teeth and smile, just like Daddy told me, and my foot finds Ronny’s crotch.  He’s hard like Daddy gets, and I wiggle my toes.

“Oh, fuck you, dude.”  Ronny counts out ten more bills.  I giggle a little and keep wiggling my toes.

Daddy looks over his shoulder at Barney, who nods at him and smiles big.  Daddy takes the money and the key and puts it in his pocket.  He reaches over and slaps Ronny on the shoulder.  “Good man, Ronny. I ain’t kiddin’ you. Best fuckin’ thing you’ve ever bought in your life.”

I brighten up at that and hold my chin up high, like Daddy said, to be proud. I’m Daddy’s proud little girl and the bestest little girl ever. He tells me so.

As we leave the diner, Daddy shouts back to Barney, “Hey Barn, see you up there on Tuesday.  It’s all set.”

Barney smiles big through the dangling cigarette in his mouth and blows smoke toward the ceiling as he cooks.  He nods his head as if to some rock and roll music only he can hear.

Outside, I go to the passenger door of Daddy’s orange truck.  He calls out, “No, Kiddo. You go with Ronny.”

“But Daddy, I wanna play with you!”

“No, Kiddo. I’ll see you soon. You have to go with Ronny. You have to be a good girl, like I told you.  You do everything he says, just like he was Daddy.  And if I hear you weren’t the bestest little girl ever, there’ll be hell to pay, young lady.”

I stick out my bottom lip. “Okay, Daddy.  You don’t have to worry about me. I’m always good, you know that.  But I don’t want you to go.”  I stomp my foot and give Daddy my best frowny pout ever.

“I know you’re good, kiddo.  You’re my special girl. Now git before I take my belt off.”

That gets me scampering over to Ronny quick.   Ronny takes me by the wrist and pulls me over to his car.  I keep looking over my shoulder and wave to Daddy as Ronny drags me.  “Hurry Daddy! Come back soon. Daddy! Daddy! Bring me a present, Daddy!”

Daddy’s car leaves a trail of dust along the road that billows and swirls in the noon-day sun.  Churchgoers in their Sunday best are arriving at the diner and watch Daddy’s car fly over the road. Ronny leads me to the passenger’s side and pushes me in the car. 

I pull my knees to my chest and suck the tip of my finger shyly.  Ronny is meek and kinda shy, not like Daddy at all. So it surprises me what he does.  He grabs the back of my hair and it hurts and pushes my face to his lap as he undoes his zipper. Before I know it, I’m choking on him and he’s pushing me down harder until I can barely breathe. But I know how to breathe through my nose and struggle up and gulp air as fast as I can. I had to learn that with Daddy. He’d be proud that I don’t struggle so much with Ronny.  “Gonna get every penny out of you, kid. You cost me a fortune.”  I know how to do this and not spill a single drop.  First time I spilled, Daddy whipped my butt so hard it hurt to sit so I do it like he likes every time now. Before I know, we’re speeding down the road going sixty or seventy and Ronny’s panting and hootin’ and hollerin’ out the window and then he just gets super quiet and stiff. I know what’s coming and swallow right on cue.  He tastes good too and feels waterier than Daddy.  And I don’t spill a drop. No, sirree!

When we get to the shack, Ronny tells me to go in and get undressed. I get out of my clothes and go to the bed and push my face into the pillow and get on my knees and raise my behind like Daddy likes.  My thumb goes instinctively to my mouth. I can see behind me a little bit and Ronny comes in tugging at his belt. He sees me with my ass in the air, my pigtails still ribboned, sucking my thumb and he just stops. “Oh no no no.  No, god, no no no.  Not like this.”  He sits on the side of the bed and slumps.

I sit up and say, “Mister, mister” and tug on his sleeve. “It’s okay, really. If Daddy says you’re okay, then it’s alright.”

“But you’re too young. I know it. This just isn’t right.  Look at you. You’re what, fourteen? fifteen? Goddamn him. I wished he had tole me your age.”

“Oh no, Mister. I’m not fourteen or fifteen.”  I pout and he looks relieved for a second.

“I’m twelve!”  I sit up proudly and smile. 

“My birth certificate says something else, but Daddy he says he likes me twelve so I stay twelve. And I’m a young twelve, too! But I can play good big girl games, just like the big girls Daddy brings home. Honest! Daddy says I’m the best he’s ever had.  Don’t you worry, Mister. I’ll even give you a money-back garany-tee! Daddy told me it’s okay to tell you that. He thought you might run away. But I like doing this for Daddy. It makes him proud! And he brings me stuff if I do good.  So come on, Mister.  Fuck me, please?  Please fuck me?”

Ronny groaned and I knew that was too much for him. I got back in position with my rear end up and my face pushed in the pillow. It didn’t take but three strokes and even with the car ride, he filled me up like he’d been a starved man all these years.

That’s okay though. That happens with Daddy a lot, too, but not when he’s drinking.

I roll over and lay my head on Ronny’s chest and play with his chest hair. He smells funny when he’s all sweaty, musky, not fresh sweat like Daddy.  Then I go to the secret cabinet and make Ronny a stiff drink, whiskey, neat, in a real glass, like I give Daddy when he comes home.

“Here, Mister. Drink this. It’ll make it slower next time. We have a week.”

*     *     *     *     *

Daddy’s been gone for a day and another day.  Ronny’s getting tired and the pizza boxes are piling up.  I hope Daddy’ll bring me a Hello Kitty stuffie. Teddy needs someone to talk to when I’m out with Daddy.  But really I just can’t wait for Daddy to come home.  He’s going to be so proud.  I know it.

That first night, after his third drink, Ronny pushed me on the bed and said, “Don’t you fucking move.”  I know Daddy told him to say that because that’s what Daddy likes to say, but I played along anyway.  And I didn’t move, not a single twitch!

Afterwards, panting hard and half dizzy from drink, Ronny said in the dark, “Damn it, girl. I’m ruined forever. It’s going to be like fucking a virgin every fucking night. You’re Daddy’s a lucky lucky man. Worth every damn penny.” 

He didn’t see my smile, which could have lit up the night sky. As I drifted off to sleep, happy happy happy, my thumb went to my mouth and I sucked.