------Note: This scene could be read as taking place in 421 or 422, as suits your preference. Contains perennially controversial fetish material.------
Amber bugged you for weeks before you relented and took her on a day trip to the local zoo. She pulled out every stop she had. She left the zoo's fliers in your work things so you would discover them at random through the day. She made a slew of promises, mostly unkeepable, of all the chores she'd do around the house if you took her. She served you and Rose breakfast in bed on Saturday while gratuitously calling you "Daddy" and reminding you that the zoo was opening in an hour. You were never sure what it was about the zoo that had her so obsessed. But now at last you've decided to take her -- and she couldn't be happier.
It's a date for just the two of you. Which suits you fine. The zoo is such a bothersome, hectic bustle of noise and crowds. Tacking on the need to juggle multiple girls would make it exponentially more tiring. Amber's enough of a handful on her own.
The Palo Alto Zoo isn't exactly the San Diego Zoo. They have nothing like polar bears, tigers, or rhinos. But for a small zoo in a mid-sized city, it's a nice enough place to stroll through, at least. Clean cobblestone paths wind around little gardens dotted with scatterings of exotic flowers in a rainbow of colors, and acacia trees that shade you. And at regular intervals, of course, are overpriced concession stands. Fuck the people who decided that cotton candy should cost $10. Fuck you for caving in and buying some for Amber.
Amber walks with you, hand-in-hand, skipping, as she snacks on a blueberry-cherry swirl of cotton candy on a stick. She eats disgustingly, manhandling her food like Henry VIII with a turkey drumstick and chomping at the wad of cotton candy like a rabid junkyard dog. You peer at her from the corner of your eye.
"Having fun?" You ask.
"Totes magotes, Daddy," she says.
"Please never say that."
"Pffft. You don't get pissed at Rose when SHE says it."
"I do. But I've accepted that I can't change her behavior. I can still change yours."
"Yeah? How?"
"By spanking you."
"Weakening your case there, Daddy."
You sigh. "Look, you really nee--"
"Oh SHIT," Amber screams. She wrests her hand free of yours and goes running for a set of large cages at a fork in the path. "Monkeys!"
Japanese macaques, specifically. They're variously lounging, wandering around, and tree-climbing within their self-contained arborium. An artificial hotspring in one corner of the habitat seems a particularly popular hangout. A plaque in front of the cages informs visitors that wild specimens live in snowy mountain regions where they've adapted to the cold by seeking out similar natural onsen for comfort and cleanliness. Their cage is made of an extremely thick gauged chain link enclosing them on all sides, including overhead. There are two perimeters of it to keep visitors from directly interacting with the monkeys. Does that stop Amber? Not at all. She pokes her stick of cotton candy through the first perimeter and chucks it like a javelin through the second. When it lands in the dirt, the monkeys go wild, and start to fight over it.
"Amber!" You shout. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
She ignores you, transfixed at the spectacle of their fighting. "So like us," she marvels.
"You're not supposed to feed them," You hiss.
"Whatever," she says. "I don't want to hear it from you. I've seen the things you feed our bunny."
"Samantha is a person," you insist.
Amber spins and points at you. "Yeah, and I have a bridge in China to sell you. Fuck off with that." Her eyes drift down, to the bottle of water in your hand. Before you can stop her, she grabs it from you.
"Hey--"
She unscrews the cap and begins to guzzle. "Sorry, Daddy. I'm super thirsty." She finishes off the bottle in a couple deep swigs. Then she conscientiously finds a nearby recycling bin and disposes of it.
"Didn't know you were such an environmentalist," you say.
"I do my part. You know, the only reason I'm here is to scout out weaknesses."
"--Weaknesses?" You say.
Amber points at the macaque cages. "Like right here. A charge of thermite could be rigged to blow a hole in the chain link and let all these poor little monkeys out. You could even do it remotely. Like say... from home, the night after placing the charge. And you know the VERY best part? There aren't even any security cameras to catch you!"
You feel ill. "Oh my god, Amber. You're not serious. ... You're not serious, are you?"
"I'm serious as hell. When am I ever not? Radical animal liberation has always been one of my staunchest beliefs. It's a crime that humans exploit innocent animals for our own--"
The bell of a passing vendor's cart dings. Amber nods at him to grab his attention, and holds up two fingers. "Yo! Two hotdogs, please! All beef if you got 'em."
The man doles them out. You thought she was ordering for both of you. But she double-barrels it, gnoshing on both hotdogs at once. She washes it all down with about a liter of Sprite. She eats and drinks so quickly that she's done practically before you're done paying. Licking mustard off her fingers, she says: "fuck, I love a good sandwich. Anyway... what was I saying?"
"Animal liberation," you tell her.
"I'm for it. 100%."
"Uh huh."
Amber grins toothily.
She wanders around the monkeys' cage's outer perimeter some more, reading the informational plaques. You keep a close eye on her to ensure she doesn't lay any bombs. Then again, you pretty much always have to stay vigilant on that front, when it comes to Amber.
She soon gets bored of reading, and bored of how listless the macacques are, too. So she starts making monkeyish poses at them, with monkeyish noises to accompany it. She rubs her scalp and her tits with her knuckles, going "oook-OOOK-oook-OOOK!" She's trying to rile them. It works only a little. The more aggressive males hoot and wag their butts at her to establish dominance. Amber chortles. She jumps, pulling a 180, and wags her butt right back at them.
Having seen more than enough, you yank her by the wrist and tug her onwards.
She grunts in surprise as the momentum nearly causes her to take a faceplant. "Oook-- watch it! I could have you arrested for abusing me!"
"You wouldn't dare," you say curtly.
Amber pouts.
Struggling to keep up with you, she finally says: "at least give me upsies if you're gonna walk so fast!"
"Upsies?" you reply. "I don't know what's up with you today, Amber, but quit with the little girl schtick. You're way too old to--"
Amber again gets free of you, and freezes in place in the middle of the path. You stop a couple paces on. Her face has gone blank with anger, her body stock-still. She locks eyes with you.
"Give me upsies, you worthless piece of shit," Amber says.
You give Amber upsies.
With Amber now on your shoulders, you wander further along the twisting paths. It's an unseasonably warm day, and both of you are sweating, all over. Amber is wearing one of her too-slight outfits, a breathy tanktop and short-cropped denim shorts that cling tenaciously to her upper legs. That leaves plenty of bare skin: her bare thighs, sticking to your neck; her bare arms and calves, draped over your front. She's dripping on you. And you can feel the intense warmth of her crotch against your nape.
It has you sweating a bit more heavily, too.
For relief from the heat that mere shade can't provide, you duck into a bird sanctuary. This indoor area is paneled with wood flooring and has low, moody lighting. More crucially, the A/C is a blessed respite for you both.
There are exotic birds of all sizes here, from finches and fairywrens to macaws and birds of paradise to -- with a wall all to themselves -- a peacock and peahen. The birds are enclosed within individual habitats suiting their individual sizes, with glass walls facing you. The less sizable habitats are stacked. Amber finds herself at eye level with a puffin. She bobs her head at it. It bobs its head back. The two instantly form some sort of deep connection that borders on spiritual as they bob their heads at one another.
"Oh yeah," Amber says. She bounces on your shoulders in sync with her bobs. "Oh yeah. Oh yeah."
The puffin starts to hop up and down too, to mirror Amber's bouncing on your shoulders. This will continue for as long as you allow it to, you realize. And as you move on, the puffin seems crestfallen. It follows Amber to the edge of its habitat, and cries after her when she disappears from its view: "Aaaa-eeem! Aaaa-eeem!"
As expected, you weren't the only visitors to seek refuge in here. You have to mill around and between throngs of people to see the various birds on display. Amber, totally unconcerned with dignity, yawns and stretches as she tells you: "thanks for dipping in here, Daddy. I was sweating my balls off."
A woman with her young son overhears this as she passes, and glares at you with wild-eyed indignation. You give her a sympathetic eye roll as if to say -- kids, right? But this busybody mother doesn't seem to appreciate how rambunctious your girl is.
"Watch your mouth," you warn Amber.
"Put something in it if you want to shut me up," she sneers. You begin to say something, but it's no use. She's too hypnotized all of a sudden by a parrot beating its wings at her. Her face lights up. You stop and let her gawk at it for a few moments. Until she says: "hey Mr. Bird -- repeat after me -- ahem -- 'Hitler did nothing wr--'"
You whisk her away.
"Asshole!" Amber shouts, and kicks your chest with the heel of her tennis shoe. "You can teach Myrna dirty words, but *I* can't teach these prisoners some history?"
"You're embarrassing us, Amber. Behave yourself."
"Or what?"
"Or I'll have to punish you."
She kicks you again.
That's it. She won't stop being bratty until you make her. You walk her right out the swinging exit doors and into the sunny afternoon again. The rays beat down on you both.
"We didn't see all the birds!" Amber complains. "Fucking asshole!" She adopts a singsong voice: "Asshole Daddy! Asshole Daddy!"
You don't respond as you continue a ways down the walkway and then sit at a lone wood bench. You haul her off your shoulders and plop her over your lap.
"D-Daddy--?" Amber stammers. Not so tough now that reprisal is upon her. She tries to twist around in your grip, but you keep her held fast and prone.
You sigh. "This is going to hurt you a lot more than it hurts me. Get ready."
"You fucking bastard!" Amber wails, bratty to the last. "We're in public! There's so many people aro--"
You raise your hand, and swat her on the tush. The slap resounds, and echoes -- this park has remarkable acoustics. When you spank her a second time, you can hear the distant retort of hooting animals crying out in reply.
"Daddyyyy--!" -- THWACK -- "Ow! Ow, ow!" She cries. She raises her head from the benchtop and looks miserably all around. You're not sure whether the worst part for her is the pain of getting spanked or the humiliation of it happening in broad daylight and full view of passersby. You spank her again, and she kicks her legs, but she's powerless to stop it. "Whyyyy..." she snivels.
"You know why." THWACK.
People walking past watch the scene somewhat judgmentally, although no one says anything. You don't care either way. Sometimes Amber needs to be spanked. It's your established role: she acts out until she crosses the line, and you show her the consequences of doing so. She wants you to punish her -- right up until the moment it's happening, and then she feels sorry for herself.
Each time you spank her, you rub your hand in a rough circle on her surprisingly cushy butt, groping it. "Be thankful I didn't pull your shorts down," you growl. You spank her again and again:
THWACK -- "owwww! Stop, stop! I'll be goo--" THWACK -- "OWWW! Please! I promise!!"
You relent, and let her clamber to an upright position, in your lap, facing you. Her face is a hot mess of tears, and her skin is flushed red. She's bloodshot. She sniffles. "I'll b-be good, Daddy... I'm sorry."
You grab her by the chin, squishing her cheeks between your fingers. "Yes you fucking will," you inform her. "Or next time I'll really make you regret it."
She nods, unable to speak due to the way you hold her. Her entire body is trembling.
Having extracted her promise to be good, you lean in, and kiss her tenderly. She exhales hard against you, clutches your collar. You make out with her a bit. Her breathing returns to normal and she gets her crying under control, stops trembling. The two of you kiss as you sweat against each other. Your skin is all wet and sticky. You fondle Amber's sore ass some more, and although it makes her squeak with a bit of residual pain, she doesn't resist, just snuggles closer. Your cock is getting hard, swelling and twitching in your jeans. You'd rather not get caught fucking Amber on a public bench. She's thinking the same thing, you'd guess, because she pulls back and says:
"Uhh... Daddy? I gotta go."
You quirk an eyebrow.
"*Go*," She repeats. She nods slowly at you. "I really, really... gotta."
You glance first one way and then the other down the cobbled paths. There isn't a restroom in sight.
"Can you hold it?" You ask her.
"Um."
She pushes her chin against her flat chest to glance down at herself. You look, too. There's a small but noticeable wet spot in her shorts. Oh boy.
Amber blushes. "Oh gosh, I'm sorry... I drank too much..." she says.
Behind the bench is a small shrubbery arrangement that forms a circular fork in the zoo's walking paths. The shrubs are a little over five feet tall, and thickly vegetated. At the center of the arrangement stands a sturdy tree. When you lead Amber by the hand through the scratchy branches and leaves, you come out on the other side in a clearing just roomy enough to stand in.
As Amber brushes the stray leaves and bits of twig from her clothes, she says: "what are you doing? Why did you--"
You squat before her. These bushes are tall enough to hide Amber, but not tall enough to hide you if you're standing up. Of course, passing visitors would be able to see both of you anyway if they were to stray too close and peek over the top. But this will have to do. And the danger is a turn-on all its own.
"You'll have to go here," you tell her. "There's no time to get you to a bathroom."
"Daddyyy..." she whines. But she puts up no fuss as you unbutton her shorts and undo her zipper. Instead, she only says, smiling warmly: "my Daddy's such a pervert..."
You slowly peel the tiny thing down her spindly legs. The denim clings and pinches and altogether resists being stripped off Amber's body. Even on hips so slight, these shorts are a couple sizes too little. The material especially doesn't want to slip past Amber's awesome bubble butt. But with your firm hands to force them down, finally she's exposed. She wasn't wearing panties -- as expected.
Her shorts around her calves, you can see Amber's little pussy in all its unblemished glory. Its perfectly in-turned lips, utterly hairless mound, and delicious puffiness. Amber's cuntlet always looks illegal in the extreme, but it looks especially illegal today, in the bright light of the afternoon: so pale, and so sticky with a lewd mixture of sweat and arousal, that it glistens. Her cunny is like a morsel glazed with a thin coat of sugary icing, and it smells just as enticing.
"I... can't pee with an audience," Amber says.
You stroke her legs and gaze up at her. "Try. We have to be quick or someone will see."
She pulls her tanktop up by the hem so that it's well clear of her crotch. You can see her slight torso and cute navel. She's so smooth and clean, even if she's all sweaty. Standing there, her shirt hiked and her pants pulled down, Amber chews her lower lip and flexes her surprisingly toned tummy. But only a small dribble drools out, and runs down her inner leg, before the flow shuts quickly off.
"I can't," she complains.
"I'll help," you say.
You latch your lips to her genitals. They taste like salty candy, milky and tangy. Amber, surprised, giggles and clutches your hair.
"Daddy, stop--"
You don't stop. You lick her all over. You probe your tongue around her wet cunt, rake it across her itty clitoris, flick it against her urethra. You inhale her wonderful scent from directly off her dimpled skin. Amber's writhing becomes a little more insistent, so you wrap an arm around her bare ass to keep her pinned to your mouth. She can't escape. Her voice goes more shrill and staccato: "Daddy -- Daddy, you're really gonna make me pee -- Daddy--! Daddy, stop!"
You hear it before you taste it. The hollow pattering of Amber's urine hitting the back of your mouth. Amber cries out in a mix of embarrassment and relief. The torrent is rushing out of her and impossible to stem. You keep licking as your throat works overtime to swallow. Amber's pee is frothy, a little bitter and sour, but not foul-tasting at all. That's to be expected since she drank nothing but water and Sprite today. Her bladder must have been really full because she goes and goes... it's so hot that it almost burns, and when when you exhale, you glimpse steam coming out.
At some point, Amber gives in to to the pleasure of this sweet release. She grabs your hair and arches her back so severely that she's almost at 90 degrees. "Daddy, you're -- oh gosh -- are you drinking it? Are you *drinking* my pee?"
She forces herself to straighten her spine so she can look at you while she pees down your mouth. She keeps tight hold of your hair and watches through half-lidded eyes. You lick her inside and out. She begins to grind her pussy against you while she relieves herself. She giggles devilishly. "Haha... you're really drinking it all up... is it good? Is it? Huh? Drink my pee, Daddy!" She pulls your hair while she pees on you, the brat.
You drink her until she's completely dry. Amber empties the entire contents of her bladder straight into your mouth, and even when she finishes pissing, you keep your lips latched onto her to suck out her cum, too. She hugs herself, letting the tanktop fall loosely over her body again, and mutters: "fuck, fuck, fuck..." But all at once, her eyes shoot open, and she says: "enough -- enough... I can't cum like this."
"What do you mean?" You ask.
She gulps, and voice going almost an octave deeper she moans: "I need your cock inside me, Daddy."
Amber slumps to her butt and splays her legs. She raises her hips just a bit and wags back and forth. She's presenting.
You're glad she offered her pussy to you, because otherwise you'd have had take it by force. You tear your jeans off and crawl atop her. Pushing her roughly down, you hold her around her head and back. You trade hot, wet kisses. Right here in the mossy grass, amid the wild calls of animals from around the world, you're about to mate with Amber's tight cunt. Squawking birds and howling monkeys meld with Amber's gasp of pained excitement, as you slip your massive cock into her body. Her lips curl into a broad O, her gasp becomes a silent shriek, but you keep going without mercy. You bite her bottom lip, sigh in pleasure, and start to hump her.
"Daddy's gonna cum inside you," you snarl. "Daddy's gonna fucking cum inside you... beg me for it...!"
"Cum inside me, Daddy! Please! I want it so bad!" She tosses her arms around your neck and hugs you close while you nail her into the dirt. You've completely neglected to stay on the lookout for lookie-loos. For all you know, you could be drawing a crowd. There might be police. You could not care less. You just gaze intently down at Amber's perfect face, framed by her fiery hair splayed on the dirty ground. You relish the sensation of her sticky, gooey, bratty cunt wrapped around your dick. You pump her at such a frenzied pace your skin begins to bruise.
Your wild fucking is alerting the animals, for sure, if not the people here: their calls all around you are increasing in volume, echoing through the whole zoo. Amber will not be the only creature who gets pregnant in the next few moments. The call to mate hangs thick in the air right now.
You too begin to grunt -- fittingly -- like an ape. You can't help yourself. Something primal grips you as you ram this bald cunny with your manly cock. Amber's grunts are more feminine but they also sound so animalistic, unevolved. Right now you're just a couple of monkeys swinging your hips together. Who cares if she calls you Daddy? Incest, real or imagined, is no barrier to mating when you're an animal. You've got a cock, and she's got a warm cunt that she's making available for it. Of course you're going to use it. Of course you're going to cum inside it. You were both in heat. She presented, you mounted her. It was the natural course of things.
The ground below you becomes stained with your commingled juices. Your nasty rutting comes to a crescendo. You rear up onto your haunches and grab her by both her wrists. Thrusting your hips so fast they become a blur, you fuck her with rapid full strokes -- all the way out and all the way in -- extracting your cock completely so the fresh air flows across the head and shaft, then digging it all the way inside again, deep inside, straight to the snug embrace of Amber's quivering womb. It only takes a few seconds. But time is dilated at the moment, and it feels like an eternity of agony on the edge of ecstasy. Your entire body convulses, your abs flex, your butt tightens. And then it's happening. You spew a scalding load of spunk into Amber's fuckhole.
"Daddy! Oh, fffffuck, that's it! Cum inside me! I want it all! I want all your cum so fucking bad! Thank you Daddy, thank you thank you thank you!!"
After a climax so awesome, you'd usually prefer a few minutes to lie on top of her and recuperate while your still-hard cock twitches inside her cunt. It's such nice sensation to let Amber's messy cunt massage your fuckmeat as the last of your sperm seeps out of the head. But you know you've already risked enough, and need to get yourselves decent again. You pull out, reluctantly, enjoying the wet plop it makes. Your pearly jizz immediately sloshes back out. It pools in a thick puddle beneath her ass. If her pussy looked glazed before, it looks like a frosted donut now. So pretty. You're a bit disappointed that you have to tug her shorts back up and conceal such a sight from view again.
The crotch of her shorts has a much more noticeable -- and much slimier -- wet spot in the crotch now. That's fine. You give her upsies again and let her ride your shoulders for the rest of the zoo visit, hiding her shame from others. She's a much better behaved and more polite girl with your sperm percolating through her body. She stinks like raw sex, sure, which draws some wary looks from the other zoo-goers. But their suspicion never leads to a confrontation. Hey: it's a zoo. And zoos stink. Amber was right, coming here was a great idea. You buy her some more cotton candy as a reward for her good behavior, and for thanking you when you spunked inside her. You buy her a few more cans of Sprite, too.