Cheerloathing is an epic-length erotic novel of betrayal, seduction, and duplicity. As something of a spiritual successor to The Second Place Sister, this story features lots of kink and deep characterization. Enjoy!
Chapter Seven: The Bad Daughter
Sara let herself into the house and dropped her gym bag in the hall. Smelling of sweat and with the film of it on her skin and soaking her sports bra, she crept into the living room, where her father dozed on the couch. Paused, on the TV, was the image of her face. Her head was pressed into Link’s crotch and her teary eyes were looking at the camera as he fucked her face. Sara grinned and almost laughed out loud. She could hardly wait to torture her dad with the other clips of the video from the boat, but those would come throughout the week.
She looked down at the sleeping form of her father, his pants unzipped, and wondered how many times he’d beaten off to this video today. Not that it mattered. His eventual submission was all that mattered.
She lay down on top of him, pressing her body to his, straddling his lap, and pushing her cunt against his crotch. His eyes fluttered open as she kissed his lips, gently pushing her tongue into his mouth and running her hand through his hair. He groaned and his hand came up to palm her ass through her shorts. When he finally realized what was happening, his hand didn’t move, but he groaned and pulled his mouth away. That adorable look of guilt and self-loathing was plain on his face as his cheeks colored.
“Sara?” he stammered.
“Who else?” she asked and nodded toward the screen. “You were having a good time pulling on your cock, weren’t you?”
His blush deepened but he didn’t deny it. There was no denying it.
“What was your favorite part,” she whispered, her lips against his ear, cheek rubbing sensually against his, and her hand in his hair. “Was it when Jason held me in place? Or when his friends made your little girl say those awful things and beg to suck their cocks?”
“This… it’s not right,” he whispered back, but his hand tightened on her ass.
“I know,” she said mockingly. “It’s so awful to be a filthy, daughter-lusting pervert. That’s what you like, though, right? You like to put your cock in teenage girls. Girls like Bethany.”
His body trembled and, if it were possible, he reddened further and looked away. However, that only made him look at the sight of his daughter’s cock-stuffed face.
“You remember Bethany, don’t you?”
“Of course,” he said, his voice heavy with guilt and regret.
Sara rocked her pussy against him and continued to toy with his hair.
“You’ll never forget her. You had so much fun pushing your dick into my friend, didn’t you? It felt so good to fuck her and call her all those dirty names, the names that mom didn’t like, right?”
“Stop,” he growled, a hint of anger breaking through the guilt.
“It’s okay,” Sara said soothingly, her hand moving from his hair to cup his cheek, turning his gaze to meet hers. “Everything’s better now that she’s gone, isn’t it? You don’t have to pretend you’re not a pussy-loving pervert anymore.”
“Please, stop it,” he begged, his anger flagging in the face of the accusation.
“Stop? Stop this?” she teased with an evil smirk and ground her cunt against his returning erection. “Is Princess being mean to you again? Are you going to do something you might regret?”
“No,” he croaked.
“You did it to Bethany, and you didn’t love her, right?”
“It wasn’t… like that and you know it.”
“No. She teased you so badly and you just couldn’t hold out. She threw her pussy at you and you took it. You held her down, and you made my friend love it so much that she told Mom, didn’t she?”
The anguish and guilt clouded his face, and he nodded, but his hand slid into the leg of her shorts and he ran it over Sara’s ass.
“You see?” she said, dropping her head to whisper into his ear as he touched her. “That’s what you want. You wouldn’t do it to me, so you did it to my friend. Only, you can do it to me, can’t you?”
“Don’t, please,” he pleaded, but his voice was hot and husky.
“I believe in you, Daddy. I know you can do it. You can break into my room at night and hold me down. It would be so easy. You’re so much bigger. You can just hit me and make me cry. That’s all you have to do.”
“Sara…”
His dick was fully hard now. The only thing between it and her pussy was two layers of cloth. Sara rocked her cunt against him, grinding his erection into her.
“That’s all it would take, daddy. You can fuck your princess every night if you just do it. I know you can. Just hit me. Make me cry.”
“Oh, god! Don’t!” he croaked, his dick jerking under her.
“Say you’ll do it to me, Daddy,” she continued, kissing his neck, “Just make me do it. Oh, Daddy, it would feel so good to make your princess cry. It would feel so good to push your dick into her and watch her struggle.”
“I… I can’t… I’m…” he jabbered, his mind seemingly overloaded with confusion and arousal.
“It’s going to feel so good for you when you just rape me, daddy!”
A tear actually rolled from his tightly shut eyes as he jerked, groaned, and came in his pants while Sara laughed. She pushed her lips against his again, kissing hard as she continued to hump his spurting cock. She let him wallow in his misery for only a moment and then added to it as she made him look her in her eyes.
“You’re going to fail,” she said, then put a quick peck on his lips, leaped from the couch skillfully, and stalked from the room.
***
Chapter Eight: A Need to Read
Sara was not particularly fond of English classes. She was much less fond of English classes that required substantial reading of old books, and the many papers that she’d have to write about those books. However, without grades, she couldn’t cheer and English Lit was a required course.
On the first day of class, she scanned the room for a seat and spotted Jason on one side of the room. He waved her over. Sara ignored him and then her gaze rested on the best seat she could have hoped for. It was in the front row, which was less than ideal, but what was more important was the girl in the front row, studying her syllabus on a laptop. Carrie.
Without another glance at her ex, Sara took the steps down from the back of the lecture hall and stood in front of Carrie. Diana’s twin looked up.
“Oh, hey, Sara.”
“Mind if I sit here?” Sara asked, gesturing to the empty seat.
“Sure.”
Sara took the seat, pulled a tablet from her bag, and booted into the school site. She accessed the syllabus and looked it over. Books, papers, just as she’d expected.
“A lot of dusty old reading,” she muttered to Carrie.
She shrugged and said, “It’s not so bad,” then she grinned and said, “I’m sure you’ll like Fight Club. Palahniuk’s a total nihilist, but there’s a lot of ass kicking.”
“Saw the movie,” Sara said. “I did like it. Especially the crazy chick. Marcia? Mara?”
“Marla,” Carrie said. “Yeah, crazy’s right. Good character.”
“Sounds like you’re a bookworm.”
“I guess so,” Carrie agreed.
“I gotta say, I’m a little less enthusiastic. I probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t required. The writing’s probably worse,” Sara complained.
The instructor took to the front of the lecture hall and rapped her fist on her podium. The room quieted. While the instructor covered the course and syllabus, Sara watched Carrie rapidly type notes on the laptop. Sara herself took no notes and thought it a bit odd that Carrie was so into it.
A series of questions over some of the titles came next, as the instructor asked who had read them. Carrie’s hand shot up eagerly every time. The girl did like her books, it seemed. While the instructor droned on, Sara thought, and by the end of the class, she’d worked this piece into the plan.
While the two of them walked up the steps of the lecture hall, Sara asked, “So, this might seem a little weird and desperate, but I was wondering if I could ask for your help.”
“Help?” Carrie asked.
“With the writing. Honestly, I can wave pompoms and do backflips, but expressing thoughts and opinions on paper isn’t my strong suit. It sure seems like it’s yours.”
“I never had much problem with it, but I wouldn’t say it’s my strong suit.”
“Well, if you could help me learn how to do it, I’d be willing to pay you or something.”
“Like a tutor?” Carrie asked.
“Yeah, something like that. I don’t know how it would work, exactly, I was just kind of hoping. It would be easier with a friend, instead of some T.A.”
“Sure,” Carrie agreed, her face brightening a bit at the mention of a friend.
Like Diana, Sara was certain that Carrie didn’t have any friends yet.
“Thanks, babe,” Sara said and put a delighted little kiss on Carrie’s cheek that, like Diana, made her blush.
When they exited the room, Jason stood near the door, waiting.
“Hey, Di,” he said. “I didn’t know you were in the class until I saw Sara sitting with you. Up front was the last place I’d expect her to be.”
Carrie looked confused and Sara laughed.
“Oh,” Carrie exclaimed, “Di. No. You’re thinking of my sister.”
“Sister?” Jason asked, puzzled.
“I’m Carrie,” she said. “Diana is my sister. We’re twins.”
“Yeah, I kind of got that. Sorry,” Jason said, putting out his hand. “I’m Jason. I met your sister over the weekend. Sorry. She didn’t mention you were twins.”
Carrie took his hand and said, “She wouldn’t. It’s kind of a stupid thing she does. She might mention she has a sister, but she gets a perverse little thrill when people mix us up. I swear it makes her wet.”
Jason raised his brows in surprise and Sara laughed again.
“And, yes, I’m probably the more forward one,” Carrie added, grinning as she looked Jason up and down.
“I can tell,” he said, flashing her a white smile.
Sara looked down at where they were still shaking hands. It was unexpected and useful.
“Geez. Get a fucking room already, you two,” she jested.
Carrie looked at her own hand, seemingly noticing for the first time that the handshake had become a bit too lengthy and intimate. She yanked it away and Sara noted the slight flush in her cheeks. Yeah, Jason could have that effect. Carrie looked embarrassed.
“I should go,” she said. “It was… nice… to meet you.”
“That doesn’t seem very forward,” Jason said with his best panty-wetting smile.
Sara could already tell that it was working. Carrie became more flustered in less time than it took her to blink.
“I’m just gonna… this way,” she stammered, pointing down the hall and tightening her grip on her shoulder strap.
“I’ll walk with,” Sara said. “I’m going that way, too. Leave the jock to his fantasies, girl. I’m sure he’s not the first to look at you and Di and think dirty thoughts.”
Jason feigned offense, holding up his hands, and said, “My thoughts are pure as a nun.”
“Whatever,” Sara said, rolling her eyes.
She took Carrie’s hand and watched the girl pull her eyes off Jason’s smile with an effort of will. Carrie snapped her attention away and let Sara lead her down the hall, where she released Carrie once they’d left Jason behind.
“Yeah, he can do that to you,” Sara said.
“What?” Carrie asked lamely, blushing.
“We dated a few years back. Nothing serious,” she said. “If you want to get to know him a little better, though, I can add that bit as payment to the tutoring!”
Carrie took a moment to shake her head and said, “Thanks, but I’m too busy for something like that.”
“Sure. If you ever change your mind, just let me know. He’s cute, right?”
Carrie only blushed and nodded. They parted ways at a crossing hallway, Sara planting another kiss on Carrie’s cheek.
Enjoying this story so far? Cheerloathing is the biggest Tori Hamlin tale at the time of this publication. Sprawling over 61 chapters, this story is set in the DomCo world, and features cameo appearances by both heroes and villains in the series! Follow Diana's descent at the hands of the seductive and evil Sara and see just how much of a bitch the competition can be.