The Boss’s Daughter Treats Me Like Her Toy

My name is Aurelio, and I work as a private bodyguard for a family with way too much money. What nobody knows is that I’ve been fucking my boss’s daughter for over a year, a spoiled girl who loves treating me like trash in front of everyone and begging me like a heat-crazed bitch as soon as we’re alone, with my cock buried deep in her tight cunt.

That facade of arrogance, classism, and being impossible to deal with is just a mask. Underneath, she’s something else: pure lust disguised as contempt, a cunt-hungry bitch hidden behind a designer dress. At first, her presence drove me up the wall. She’s capricious, spoiled, and changes moods every five minutes. But she’s insanely hot, and I learned to put up with her insults because I know exactly how to shut her up: by shoving it down her throat until tears spill from her eyes.

It all started a little over a year ago. I got out of the army and, like almost all my buddies, went into private security. I’d guarded politicians, some artist, and one or two obnoxious bastards I’d rather not talk about. An old friend tipped me off about this family: good pay, insurance, room and board included. I practically had to live in the house, because the old man was terrified of going anywhere, even to the corner.

The house was on the outskirts of the city, huge, with its own security team at the gate. They searched me, I waited a good while in the living room, and as soon as Don Ernesto read my résumé, he was thrilled. He hired me on the spot and told me my only job would be to take care of his daughter. Be her shadow, basically.

The head of security, a serious guy named Mauro, took me to the garage, which was bigger than the apartment where I grew up. Sports cars, armored SUVs, everything. The young lady’s car was a Maserati that I was supposed to keep spotless, charged, and ready at all times, because at any hour she might decide to go out.

—You’re lucky, you get to look after the princess of the house —Mauro told me in a strange tone, almost pitying. The others looked at me the same way. I understood why later.

I went upstairs to read the family handbook. Nothing special: drop her off and pick her up at the door, no delays, don’t speak to her unless she speaks first. Right then the intercom rang: they needed me urgently at the entrance. I went down, opened the door, and saw her for the first time.

Holy shit, what a woman.

Twenty-two years old, tall, blonde, with a golden mane that reached a pair of round, hard ass cheeks. Tiny waist, defined stomach, toned legs. She stood there with her arms crossed, in leggings and a sports top, looking me up and down like someone inspecting a piece of furniture they don’t like. Her tits were firm under the spandex, two high mounds with hard nipples, and the leggings were wedged between her cheeks, outlining her pussy in every last crease.

—And this scar-faced guy is my new driver? Didn’t you have someone better, Dad? —she said, and her father introduced us laughing.

I’m almost six foot three, fair-skinned, honey-colored eyes, and at that time I wore my hair long, brushed back, with a trimmed beard. At thirty-eight, some gray was already showing. I work out, I’m clean, I like dressing well. And despite the contempt in her words, I noticed right away the way she looked at me, the way her eyes kept dropping to the bulge between my legs. I’d known her for thirty seconds and already knew how to read that look of a horny slut.

—Well, scar-face, at least you’re not another bodyguard exactly like the others. Go get the car, change clothes, put on gym gear. We’re going to the gym —she ordered, then ran up the stairs. With every step those ass cheeks bounced. Her father gave me money to buy clothes, because obviously I’d arrived with nothing but what I had on.

I went for the Maserati and waited for her at the entrance. I thought I’d use the trip to the gym to stop and buy clothes, but she shouted from a window that I should come up. The housemaid stopped me on the stairs; she didn’t know me. I introduced myself, and she sighed with that same pitying face everyone else made and pointed out the young lady’s door.

I knocked and she flung it open. She was in lingerie, with not a shred of modesty. A tiny lace thong disappearing between her cheeks and a bra barely containing her tits.

—Are you stupid or what? My gym bag’s right there, take it to the car and wait for me downstairs. Didn’t I tell you to change? Oh, I get it: you’re poor and didn’t bring anything. Just what I needed. Because of you I’m going to be late —she spat, then turned without giving me time to react, showing me that perfect ass split by the thong strap.

I grabbed the bag and waited for her at the foot of the stairs. She came down minutes later in leggings, a top, her hair tied up, and huge sunglasses covering half her face. She stopped every couple of steps to take photos. Once in the car, she announced that first we’d stop to buy me clothes.

—I hope you showered, scar-face. I don’t want any weird smells. By the way, what’s your name? Oh, I don’t care. Hey, what happened to your face? Were you born like that? No, it must be from all the beatings you got, right? —she said, watching me with cruel curiosity.

The truth was those scars came from the acne I had as a teenager. Nothing heroic, nothing to brag about. I didn’t answer.

Mid-sentence she cut herself off to talk on the phone with someone, telling me to speed up because I drove like an old lady. When we got to the fast avenue, I stepped on it. She started screaming, but from excitement. She laughed, clung to my arm, asked for more. Her yells heated me up a little, I’ll admit it. We got there flying.

She liked the way I drove. She looked at me differently. At the mall she bought me clothes, a lot of them, not just for the gym. She had fun watching me come out of the fitting room so she could approve or mock me. More than once I caught her taking pictures of me. I’m not huge, but I’ve got a worked body and I’m hairy, and she clearly liked that.

At the gym, her friends, as unbearable as she was, dragged her off to train. She ordered me to stay nearby but not get in the way. I took the chance to work out a bit while keeping an eye on her through the mirrors. She was consistent with her routines, I have to give her that, even if she took a thousand photos between sets.

***

That became the routine: gym early, then university, and in the afternoons whatever she felt like. On weekends I drove her to her friends’ parties. Those days she got dolled up like a queen, manicure, pedicure, dresses getting shorter and shorter. It looked like she and her girlfriends were competing to see who could turn the most heads. And driving her around, I got an eyeful.

She had a boyfriend, some guy named Bruno, the son of another rich man, just as vain as she was. But ours wasn’t the usual rich-girl-falls-for-the-driver story. Not at all. I kept being “scar-face,” and she only spoke to me when necessary. Until one night.

That day I shuttled her around from morning on: beauty salon, nails, clothes, food. They had an important party at an estate in another city and she had to be the most dazzling woman there. I put on the suit she’d bought me, a two-button Brioni, and I was told to take her in the big SUV. Mauro showed me where the radio and the gun were, just in case.

At exactly nine she came down. She looked like a runway model. A low-cut dress, open at the sides, barely covering what it needed to cover. For some reason they’d done her makeup horribly, but she still looked gorgeous. I drove her for almost an hour. She was silent, serious, texting on her phone. For the first time she didn’t insult me once during the whole trip.

When we got there, I opened the door and gave her a hand to get out. Bruno was waiting, talking to her over a video call like an idiot. As soon as she saw him, her face changed, she let go of my hand, and went off with him. Mauro told me I could stay nearby but not go in. I parked the SUV where they told me and started chatting with the other guards.

Past two in the morning I got a message: “Get the SUV ready, I’m coming out.” When I got there, she was at the entrance arguing with Bruno. They were both very drunk. I opened the door; he kept telling her not to leave, but she got in without saying a word. On the way she started yelling, laughing to herself, sending voice messages insulting him.

At the exit booth, the woman taking payments looked at me funny because of the racket. I drove a few kilometers and pulled over in a clear area. I asked if she was okay and she sent me to hell. I explained that she had to calm down, that at any checkpoint they could stop us because of the noise. Then she broke down crying. Her boyfriend was cheating on her with a girl from college and her friends had exposed her.

—Was she pretty? —she asked suddenly, stretching over to show me a photo on her phone—. Is she better than me?

—No —I answered honestly, and she tore the girl apart with words.

—Look at her, she has nothing, no body, no face. She’s probably some starving bitch. And Bruno is an idiot, all men are the same. Since I won’t fuck him, he cheated on me.

I listened without saying anything. She started crying again. I handed her a bottle of water to calm her down. Then she took something from her bag, some pills, swallowed them, and within minutes the crying turned into party mode. She put on music, started dancing while sitting down, saying stupid things. She settled onto her knees on the seat and started moving her hips.

—Does she move like this, idiot? Look at what you missed. To get over it, I’m going to fuck the first poor bastard I see —she said, talking to her imaginary boyfriend, because the phone was turned off on the floor.

I watched her through the rearview mirror. At one stop she caught me staring, and instead of scolding me, she smiled and lifted her dress so I could see better. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Her shaved pussy, the lips swollen and already shining with wetness, stared back at me from the back seat like an invitation.

—Do you like what you see, scar-face? You’re going to help me get back at that idiot, right? —she said, dropping onto one side, turning her back to me and spreading her legs so I could see everything in the mirror.

—Miss, please calm down. This isn’t right. If your father finds out, he’ll fire me —I answered, clinging to the last shred of sanity, even though I was already hard as a rock pressing against my pants.

—Don’t worry about my dad. Your job is to please me and obey me in everything. Did you forget already? —and she took her phone and dialed.

—Hi, Daddy. You know what? Scold scar-face, he doesn’t want to please me —she said in a little girl voice that raised goosebumps on my skin, while she held the phone toward me in a video call.

—Aurelio? What did we agree on, son? Your duty is to obey my daughter in everything she asks of you —the old man said from the screen, while she, off camera, kept showing me her open cunt with two fingers, her tongue sliding over her lips. How was I supposed to explain to a father what his daughter really wanted?

—Daddy, I’m staying at the apartment, see you tomorrow. Love you —she hung up, gave me the new route, and we reached a condo area in a few minutes.

***

I parked where she told me. She was already fired up, she pulled off her underwear and threw it at me. The thong landed on my shoulder, soaked. I brought it briefly to my nose without thinking, and her hot female scent finished breaking my will. I was biting my lip watching her in the mirror, but the guard for the complex was patrolling too close. I told her it was better to go upstairs. She didn’t want to, but I convinced her. When she got out, she was trembling from the cold, so I took off my jacket and put it over her shoulders.

As soon as we stepped into the elevator, she put her hand on my groin without warning. I nearly jumped. She started laughing, flirtatious, looking at me in the mirror reflection while squeezing my cock through my pants and feeling it growing under her palm.

—Oh, no, scar-face, you’re not going to make it with that. I thought you came better armed —she mocked, and kept squeezing, measuring with her fingers, until the smile vanished from her face when she realized the thing kept growing and still hadn’t reached its end—. Come on, take it out, I want to see it.

—Wait until we get upstairs, miss —I answered, calm, confident. I didn’t give her the satisfaction of reacting. I’ve been with many women, and long ago I learned that silence says more than any boast.

The apartment was all hers, full of photos of her. Her hideout, where she brought her lovers. She told me to wait in the living room and came back in black lace underwear, a set that lifted her tits and framed her shaved pussy. Without saying a word she climbed on top of me and started kissing me with her mouth open, shoving her tongue deep, biting my lips. I squeezed those hard cheeks while she laughed between kisses, rubbing her cunt against the bulge in my pants. When she finally felt me swell fully against her pelvis, she opened her eyes in surprise and leaned back a little to look down.

—Holy shit… —she muttered, and all her haughtiness dropped away at once—. Take everything off, fast —she ordered, unbuckling my belt with trembling hands. I yanked her bra off in one pull and out sprang two round white tits, with pink erect nipples. I bent down and bit one until she moaned, while with my other hand I buried two fingers in her wet cunt. She was pouring. The fingers went in without resistance and made a sticky sound when I pulled them out.

—You’re soaked, princess —I whispered in her ear—. All this for me?

—Shut up and take it out already —she gasped, dropping to her knees in front of me. She yanked my pants and boxers down in one pull and my cock sprang up in front of her face, hard, thick, the tip swollen and shining with a thread of liquid. She stared at it, mouth slightly open, incredulous.

—My God… it’s huge —she murmured, wrapping both hands around it, barely able to encircle it. She measured it, weighed it in her hands, ran her tongue over her lips—. Bruno is a dwarf next to this.

—You wanted it? Well, here it is. And before anything else, you’re going to suck it, bitch —I told her, taking her face firmly and rubbing the tip against her painted lips. She made a pleased face and opened her mouth. I slid it in slowly, watching her red lips stretch around the shaft. She started sucking with an enthusiasm I hadn’t expected, helping with both hands, pulling back only to run her whole tongue from bottom to top, lick my balls, spit on it, and take it back in as far as her throat would let her.

I held her by the hair, setting the rhythm. I started pushing her head, forcing it deeper and deeper until the tip hit the back of her throat and she gagged with tears in her eyes. She loved being treated like that, being used, having that princess shell stripped from her for a while. Her makeup was smudged, her mascara running in two black streaks down her cheeks, and she smiled with my cock in her mouth, looking up at me with grateful slut eyes.

—Like that, scar-face, harder, fuck my mouth —she gasped when I pulled out for a second to let her breathe. A string of saliva hung from her chin to her chest. I grabbed the back of her neck and shoved it deep again, fucking her throat with short, hard thrusts until I felt I was about to lose my load.

When we couldn’t hold back any longer, I lifted her by the hair, laid her on her back on the rug, and spread her legs with a slap. Her pussy looked swollen, red, dripping all the way to the asshole. I settled between her thighs and ran my tongue from bottom to top, licking everything, burying it in her hole, climbing up to her clit and taking it in my lips. She arched her back and screamed, gripping my head with both hands, rocking her hips against my face.

—Oh, you son of a bitch, don’t stop, don’t stop! —she shrieked, pushing herself against me. I buried my tongue in her, pushed two fingers deep, and searched for the exact spot with my fingertip, pressing it while I sucked her clit. In less than a minute she came screaming, squeezing my head between her thighs, soaking my beard with a warm, thick release.

Before she’d finished shaking, I put her on all fours. I lifted her hips, spread her cheeks with my thumbs, and showed her open cunt in the wall mirror. I spat on my hand, ran it over my cock, and set the tip at her entrance. I pushed slowly. She was so tight the tip barely went in despite how wet she was.

—Easy, easy, it’s so big… —she moaned, clutching the rug, tightening her ass cheeks.

—Take it, princess. You asked for it, now you’re taking the whole thing —I told her, and with a firm shove I buried halfway in. She let out a long howl, half pain, half pleasure. I held still for a second, cock wedged inside her, while I stroked her back. Then I pushed a little more, and a little more, until my balls slapped against her clit. I was all the way in. The moment she felt me completely, her first orgasm hit. Her skin prickled, her cunt clenched around my cock like a fist, and she let herself go between laughter and moans, soaking my groin.

—I love it, don’t stop, fuck me, fuck me hard —she gasped, and of course I gave her what she wanted.

I started pounding her with long thrusts, pulling almost all the way out only to slam back in. Every stroke ripped a cry from her. I grabbed one tit with one hand and with the other I slapped her ass, leaving the print of my fingers. She writhed, pushed her ass back to take me deeper, rubbed her clit with her free hand.

—Harder, scar-face, break me, break my cunt —she begged, pushing herself back to bury me more.

I took her hard, harder than I think anyone ever had. I pulled one orgasm after another out of her, on the sofa with her riding me, against the wall with her legs wrapped around my waist, and even on the balcony with the city dark below. There I bent her over the railing, spread her cheeks, and shoved it in from behind while the cold air slapped our sweaty skin. She moaned without caring if anyone heard, braced her hands against the icy metal, threw her head back so I could bite her neck.

—Put it in my ass too, I want to feel it there —she gasped, surprising me. I ran my thumb through her own slick and slowly pushed it into her asshole, while I kept fucking her pussy. She came again almost at once, trembling all around my cock.

Every time I was about to finish, she hurried down to her knees to take me in her mouth. The last time I grabbed her head and emptied a long stream between her tongue and throat. Some spilled out and ran down her chin, between her tits. She ran her fingers over herself, gathered up as much as she could, and brought it to her mouth smiling, staring straight at me, swallowing every last drop.

—Delicious —she murmured, licking her lips—. No idiot had ever filled my mouth like that.

We ended up wrecked almost at dawn, her face down on the bed, pussy and ass dripping semen onto the white sheets, with the stupid smile of a woman who’d been fucked properly.

***

We slept a couple of hours and started again under the shower. At first I noticed she was quieter, almost embarrassed, but the heat of the water and the fucking turned her back into that submissive woman who asked for more. I pressed her against the tiles, lifted one leg, and shoved it back in while hot water poured over us. I bit her neck, squeezed her slippery tits, sucked one nipple. She clung to my shoulders and drove her nails into my back with every thrust.

—Come inside this time, scar-face, I want to feel it hot —she whispered in my ear, and I didn’t need to be asked twice. I shoved harder, lifted her fully, held her between my body and the wall with both legs around my waist, and emptied everything I had left into her cunt, feeling her whole body clamp down as she came with me. She slid down slowly, my cock slipping out, and a thick drop fell to the floor mixed with water.

We went back to the house in sportswear, her in a cap and dark sunglasses. I dropped her at her door and she gave me the day off.

When I got back to my room, Mauro and his men greeted me with knowing looks.

—Aurelio, did the young lady welcome you properly? —one of them blurted, and they all laughed.

—Don’t worry, old man, we all got it. That girl loves sleeping with the staff, but as soon as she gets bored, she changes drivers. How’d it go? She’s smoking hot, right? —another one told me.

I played dumb, thinking they were exaggerating. But over the months she confessed it herself: she has a weakness for ordinary people, the very people she pretends to despise. Her cruelty is theater, a curtain so her father never suspects who she’s really sleeping with. The whole security team had already been through her hands, her mouth, and her cunt. The ones who didn’t satisfy her got fired. I’m her current toy, and luckily for me, I keep her more than happy.

Since then we’ve snuck off to the coast for entire weekends. She hunts me down in the car, on the highway at full speed, until I have to pull over on some deserted road so she can climb on top of me and ride me until I’m empty. By day she still calls me scar-face in front of her friends; by night she kneels and begs me to take her deep and put her in her place.

I’m not her prince and I don’t pretend to be. I know what I am to her — a big cock at the service of her whims — and I don’t care, because I enjoy it as much as she does. Sometimes we even go out “hunting” together, looking for some lucky bastard to indulge her whims, but that’s another story. If you’re interested, tell me in the comments and I’ll tell you what else the princess of the house is hiding.