Setting the First Table

Setting the First Table



Darien Kingford swept up the handle of his phone, pressing the flashing button for his private line. The Caller ID showed a number he didn’t recognize. “Yes, hello,” he said, almost with a bite to his voice.

“Hello, Mr. Kingford,” a young girl greeted. “Nice to talk to you. I hope you remember me? I’m the girl whose daddy rented me to you three weeks ago, and I sucked your cock and swallowed all your cum. You said you wanted to be with me again, so here I am. How have you been?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Want me to send the video my daddy took, to refresh your memory? Maybe with copies to your wife and the District Attorney? I loved taking all your cum but other, important people won’t be as happy about it as I still am. You tasted really good.”

Kingford forced away panic. If he screwed up, and somehow lost his company fifty million dollars, he could still escape with a guaranteed nine-figure retirement package. Proof he had sex with an underage girl would destroy everything for good; no amount of money could save him. “Assuming that’s true,” he fought, twisting meanings and ideas as is his forte, “what do you want out of your lies?”

“Therein lies the rub,” the young caller said, “as Shakespeare put it. You said you wanted to pleasure me if there’s a next time, and I’m offering that ‘next time’. But I’m stuck wearing a steel belt that keeps you from my pussy. I know the company that makes the lock for it, and the series. If you can get a master key, plus two thousand bucks, we can fuck all day until my daddy comes home. I keep the key and of course the cash. Plus all the cum I can get out of you. You get the disc when you leave.”

“I don’t do blackmail.”

“This isn’t blackmail. I simply want your cock again, but I need your help for us to play more and better. If you’re not interested, I’ll go elsewhere. But, really, would a man like you want to lose out because you flatly dismissed an eleven-year-old who wants you?”

“Give me the details,” Kingford sighed after a drawn pause, his pen in hand.

******

Gina hung up the phone and wrapped her arms about herself. She shook all over, for both violent sexual hunger and that she made her call. Gina knew the future she could have, as Daddy showed without realizing what he had done. But this first step came hard. Maybe everything to follow would be easier.

“Stupid dumbfuck Daddy,” the girl growled as she returned to her chores. “You never should have left me the Internet.”

Daddy had been further careless, to leave his concealed spycam on the bookshelf when he knew Gina cleaned house thoroughly as she’s required. Discovery of that small forgotten thing was inevitable, and tracing the hidden wires back to the ‘family’ computer didn’t take rocket science. Daddy had painstakingly locked out websites like chat rooms, friends-connections, and porn so Gina couldn’t sit around getting worked up. He also didn’t want the risk she might tell about being his preteen sex toy. But Daddy-dumbfuck didn’t password his personal files, including the secret videos of what he made Gina do with Mr. Kingford and his own bitchkitty girlfriend Toni Ann. Daddy had been lazy, to rather watch the episodes after midnight without the ‘hassle’ of inputting codes to open them. And, too, Gina found more of his pet kinks. One day she would use all that to better advantage, as well as other things she learned since start of their sex life last year, when Gina was ten.

“Stupid dumbfuck,” Gina tittered. Of course Daddy didn’t plan blackmail; he had too much of an honest streak for that. But it seemed another betrayal that he would watch his homemade porn and jerk off to it; Gina sneaked downstairs late one night and saw him in action. In the end, Daddy had no need to beat off. He had Gina and also his bitchkitty girlfriend who, of late, he seemed to be screwing more than his loyal, willing play toy. Nothing seemed right with any of that, when Gina needed her orgasms, too.

Good for Gina that Daddy had, despite recent slips, overall and meticulous obsession with details and personal protection. For backup, he kept a daily planner other than on the computer. So Gina needed only to find it.

Five days after her forced trysts with Mr. Kingford and Toni Ann, Gina found the ledger hidden inside a stash made to look like a book—one of those things that cheap mail order houses sell for $9.99, plus tax and shipping. Daddy had always been an avid reader, but the title “Breaths of Summer” didn’t fit his collection. No way would he own a book titled like a compilation of sappy, Hippy love poetry.

One entry in the datebook catching Gina’s special notice would be indecipherable to someone who didn’t know her daddy and how he used his own system of abbreviation. He taught Gina how to do that, too–a leftover from his college days where he coded his class notes so, if they might be stolen, no lazy classmate could make sense of his scrupulous work. No wonder the betraying bastard graduated magna cum laud.

So Gina learned from Daddy’s planner the name and private number of the rich stranger she sucked off. A Net search of Who’s Who provided further details of Mr. Kingford, and a confirming photograph. He wanted to be with her again, he said that night, and he had money to burn. But the damned chastity belt Gina had to wear posed a major problem.

Having another sprout of intuition, Gina dripped hot candle wax on a sheet of paper in a thick layer. When it became tacky, she pressed it to the base of the padlock keeping the cruel belt in place. To her satisfaction, she got the number of the lock series impressed into the wax. Twisting with a hand-held mirror in front of the standing one in her room, she saw the name of the manufacturer etched into the body of the lock. The next day, she redid her trick with the wax to be sure she had the series number right the first time; reading negative images, with everything backward, was tricky.

Then came two weeks of building nerve to make her call. If anyone could get hold of a master key to free her, Kingford had to be the one. Then she could have him in full, to enjoy his huge cock and secretly sock away two thousand dollars. Gina also decided to sweeten the deal for more, to charge a thousand a shot after their first exuberant time together. She held fear that he might want to fuck her ass with his over-size shaft, so she would deter that sure risk of pain and possible injury by charging five thousand more for that part of her.