Forged in Flames

Pin Her Arms Back, She's A Little

Now it was the weekend, there were some slight conflicts with plans for the day, they were going to a park far out in Apple Valley for his little cousin's soccer game. Hannah was two years old, she didn't play in the game at all, but at least she was there. The problems worked themselves out, though. Summer was dropped off at Dylan's house roughly an hour before the family had to leave to go to the game.

They sat at the park, enjoying the horrendous aroma of the nearby wastewater treatment plant. Summer buried her face in Dylan's shoulder and inhaled his scent, a better smell than the one fumigating from the nearby facility. Dylan's aunt didn't say much to Dylan and didn't say anything to Summer except a hello, but, as they were leaving, she had commented that Summer seemed to be a sweet girl. The family walked to the restrooms and Dylan locked himself in the bathroom stall. The latch was sticky, stubborn and required force. Including to open it, the latch slipped and pinched the side of his left index finger. It pulsated, bruised instantly and began to drip blood. He washed his hands, soap and water, ignoring the flaming agony from the suds going into the open wound. He had every intention of making sure there was as little bacteria inside the slice as possible. When he had walked out, Summer instantly jumped. "What happened?" She shouted, looking at the cut and back at him. He explained the bathroom stall and she nodded her head, she was still concerned, her man was bleeding, but now that she knew what had caused it, she wasn't as worried.

Dylan, Summer and the family piled back into the Traverse and drove back to his house. They didn't have much time on their hands before his siblings soccer games, which happened to be taking place simultaneously.

The breeze was cold, an autumn breeze somehow had wiggles its way into the spring day as Summer and Dylan sat on a hill in the grass, overlooking the soccer fields at the park. To the left, houses, to the right, Mesa Linda Elementary school. He was cold, Summer was a human furnace. She sat with her legs open, encouraging Dylan to sit between them. He obliged and she wrapped her arms around his waist. Although she was warm, they sat in the shade and the breeze alone was already cold. "It's so cold!" Dylan exclaimed, shaking against the breeze, curling into her embrace. "Why no move into the...you know...SUN?" She said, emphasizing the need for her logic, because Dylan was certainly lacking it in this moment. The two picked up their belongings and sat a yard away and into the sun. Much warmer. Now he was holding her, and she began to talk of one of the rules she had broken. 

'Rules, now!' the little demanded. Summer was a relatively committed member of little space, making it so time after time, she wasn't 19, she was about 5 or 6. Dylan was her daddy, he took care of her when she became small. As any parent, Dylan had rules for her, she had to tell daddy good morning every morning, make her bed, eat at least two meals every day and tell daddy that she did, no phone after bedtime, no self harm, no sweets after 8, no bad words, be a kind princess, bedtime is at 11, pick your outfit each night, compliment yourself whenever you see your reflection. Summer's punishments included getting her stuffie put in jail, getting a timeout, spankings and in more severe cases, getting the privilege of masturbation revoked. If she was showing signs of arousal around the time of breaking the rule or saying she had broken it, it was likely Dylan would tease her, make her want to pleasure herself and make her wait. She called it, getting into a stumper.

They sat there talking, the night before, Summer had been house-sitting for her uncle. She hid her face in her hands shyly, "I ate an ice cream sandwich after 8." She admitted shyly, still hiding. "I wasn't gonna tell you because i didn't want to get in trouble, no sweets after 8 but it was so good!" Dylan growled, "But no sweets after 8, pumpkin." He informed her, she leaned in with a slight exhale and bit his neck. Dylan grimaced and groaned. He stuck his leg between hers and held her hands behind her back like a cop. She whimpered, "You're not fair." "Mh, i'm not fair? I could make you want to touch yourself and revoke your privilege of being able to." Dylan said dominantly, looking at her with a smirk. He released her and she began to pick at the grass, "Don't kill the plants baby!" He instated, picking up her destructive hands and pulling the plants from her fingers. "But I wanna!" She pouted. "Don't." He said firmly in her ear, releasing her hands, she made a noise, showing every sign she was kindled by the way he was acting. She smirked and went back to picking the plants, like the little brat she was. She wasn't listening to daddy. He sat her sideways instead of facing forward, he forced her hands behind her back firmly and pushed his leg against her. She arched her back and whined loudly. "You gonna keep pulling the plants?" He asked her nicely. "Mhm" She replied, smiling at him. He applied more pressure on her captured arms and between her thighs. She arched her back again and moaned. "Are you going to pick at the plants?" He asked her more firmly. "Uh-huh." She replied with a weak smirk. He rubbed her hard and fast, she moaned and whined, he moved his leg away as she began to grind against him, "Still?" he asked her, "mmno." She replied. He let her go, they watched the remainder of the soccer game, she obeyed what he asked after seeing how she would be punished.