Brianna Sees Her Father Get Kicked - Part Three

“Hey Hon,” Claire called from the front room. “Have you seen the camera? I thought it was in the office here.”

Trevor put the television on mute and glanced in the direction of his wife’s voice, racking his brain for its location as he asked, “What do you need the camera for?”

“Bri has a birthday party for one of her girlfriends and they’re all coming here before going out. I wanted to get a few photos,” Claire explained, her voice muffled like she had her head buried in a cabinet.

“Why don’t you just use your phone?” Trevor shot back, wondering why his wife couldn’t just do things the easy way.

“Don’t like my camera phone, that’s why. Can you just get in here and help me look?”

With a resigned sigh, Trevor hoisted himself from the couch and slowly made his way around the stairs and across the foyer to where Claire was indeed buried in the tall, cherry cabinet that held a bunch of odds and ends like half-opened reams of paper, old electronics and at least a full shelf of unused candles. She was bent over rummaging through the bottom shelf and Trevor had to smile, his blue eyes happy to gaze on his wife’s curvy ass in the soft, tight jeans she was wearing, thinking that this view alone made it worth getting off the sofa.

“It’s not in there,” he said, immediately regretting his decision to open his mouth as his wife’s sweet ass disappeared when she turned to face him. Not that her front looked bad – quite the opposite, actually – but her butt really did look like something special in those jeans. Of course, it was something special outside of them, too. At least in his eyes, anyway.

“Well, then where is it?” She asked, sounding annoyed, like she didn’t need him condescending to her, as she misinterpreted his tone.

“I’m only here to help, Claire,” Trevor grinned, holding his hands up, palms out. “No need to get huffy.”

Claire brushed a curl of auburn hair from her brow and put her hands on her hips. “Sorry. Just irked that I can’t find the damn thing.”

Trevor, enjoying how cute his wife sounded when she was irritated, strolled around the big desk which sat against the windows overlooking the front yard and bent at the waist, pulling open the bottom drawer. “Just where it always is,” he said. Though it was said in a lighthearted manner, his tone was designed to make Claire feel a smidge stupid.

Despite his attempt to veil it, Claire was too smart not to notice his superior manner. As he stood in front of her, his ass pointing up, legs spread, Claire had the sudden urge to swing her foot up between them. She imagined his head ramming forward into the desk as she smashed his balls from behind. It would serve him right, she thought, lining up her kick.

What are you doing? A small voice asked from inside her head. Bri’s friends will be here any minute. You don’t need your husband moaning in anguish when they get here, do you?

Claire wrinkled her nose in disgust at the voice in her head but then dropped her foot back to the
floor. As much as she hated to admit it, the voice was right.

Just kick him later, Claire heard the voice say, which brought a smile to her face and made her feel a little better about allowing the current opportunity to slip past.

“What’s this about a birthday party?” Trevor asked, handing the camera over to Claire, completely oblivious to his narrow escape.

Could men be any less aware?, Claire thought as she accepted the camera. Then, inspecting it, she pushed aside her wonder at his ignorance and filled her husband in on the details. It was to be a girls night out at the club with dancing and moderate shenanigans – nothing serious. Bri’s words, not hers, Claire explained as Trevor arched a suspicious brow.

“Oh, don’t look like such a codger,” Claire needled. “The girls just wanna have some fun. We were that age once.”

Duly chastened, Trevor’s expression softened as he remembered some of the reckless, but harmless, fun of his youth. “Fine,” he said. “I guess there’s no reason they shouldn’t have a little fun.”

Claire patted her husband’s arm and gave him a smile – one that seemed to say, ‘Way to be the bigger man.’ She turned and headed toward the kitchen. “Do we have any double As?” She called, sliding the compartment open as she walked. She feigned a frown when she heard Trevor’s lame reply.

“I don’t know. But we have some double Ds.” Unlike his wife, Trevor laughed aloud at his little quip as he made his way back to the sofa. He was just about to sit down when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Setting the remote down, Trevor retraced his steps back to the foyer where Claire was already standing, snapping the new batteries into place. Together, they glanced at the stairwell.

Upon seeing the dark shadow pass over her father’s face, Bri stopped in her tracks with only a few stairs left to descend. She shot a pleading glance at her mother, and Claire immediately turned toward her husband.

Claire didn’t need to look twice to know that Trevor would be none to pleased with Bri’s choice of attire and seeing the stern look on his face told her she was right. Claire’s eyes darted back to Bri, giving the girl a second quick once over. Perhaps her husband wasn’t wrong to disapprove. Bri was sporting a cropped, white top which, from Claire’s current perspective, revealed the cups of her white bra. At least she had the sense not to wear a black bra, Claire thought, knowing Trevor wouldn’t care what color the bra was – just that it was exposed. Bri’s tanned, firm tummy was also exposed, the belly button ring adorning it sparkling in the sunlight streaming through the foyer windows. Her black skirt was tight, but not short enough to reveal her panties. Thank god for that, Claire thought, right before a hint of true concern rose into her eyes.

Bri’s heels were dangerously high and the stilettos holding them looked nearly incapable of supporting her body weight – which wasn’t all that much. Maybe a shade over one hundred pounds. If Bri was planning on dancing in those, Claire worried, the poor girl was going to end her night in the ER with broken ankles. She really needed to say something and provide the girl some motherly advice. But before Claire could say anything, her husband was already pointing an accusatory finger in Bri’s direction.

“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” Trevor growled, causing his daughter’s face to flush with the combination of shame and outrage.

Bri knew her outfit wouldn’t pass muster, but she was twenty, not a child anymore. She could wear what she wanted and it pissed her off that she still felt a twinge of guilt at her father’s assessment. She folded her arms under her bosom as her eyes shot fiery darts at her father.

“Let me talk to her,” Claire offered, placing a delicate arm across her husband’s chest while reaching for Bri’s hand.

To his credit, Trevor stepped back at his wife’s gentle insistence, but he was still fuming, his mind full of the worst possible outcomes an outfit like that could lead to. As Claire led Bri to the living room, he snapped. This was not time for discussion. Bri needed to change and that was that. He stormed after them.

“No, Claire,” Trevor said firmly. “There’s no need for talking. She has to put something else on and that’s that.” He stood across from them with his hands planted on his hips, staring them down with scary intensity.

“But, Dad!” Bri cried. “That’s so unfair! I’m a grown woman now. I can wear what I want.”

“A grown woman would know better than to wear whatever it is you call that,” Trevor erupted, waiving a hand up and down dismissively. “You know what wearing something like that leads to? Rape,” he barked, answering his own question.

“Oh come now, Trevor,” Claire interrupted, clearly exasperated by her husband’s sudden escalation. “Be reasonable. I’ve seen girls Bri’s age wearing far less. And rape? Don’t you think that’s a little harsh? Bri’s a big girl. She can handle herself. And she’s not stupid.”

“Oh yeah?” Trevor sneered. “She’s certainly not looking smart if you ask me. And in those shoes, there’s no way she could run away from trouble. I don’t even know how she’s walking!”

Bri stamped her foot and crossed her arms, glowering at her father.

Though Claire had to admit he was right about that last part, she did not share his opinion that Bri looked stupid or that her choices were stupid. Actually, her daughter looked really good in her getup, flattered in all the right places without being slutty. Unless you were standing almost directly under Bri, her bra was hidden from view, which Claire now saw, so there was minimal risk of exposure there. “Trev, honey, be reasonable,” Claire began before her husband rudely cut her off.

“Nope. Not a word. You go upstairs and change right now, Bri,” he demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

Bri stamped her foot again and moved her arms to her hips, continuing to hold her glare. For a second it appeared her head might explode as the redness stole up her neck and into her cheeks. A thickness filled the air around the small family as the intensity of the standoff increased.

With a guttural “Ugh!” Bri shattered the silence. She twisted away from her mother’s loose grip, but instead of turning toward the stairs, she took three steady strides toward her father and then kicked him in the groin as hard as she could. She wanted to make sure he understood how irritated she was. Before his body even hit the floor, Bri was already striding off down the hall and out the front door.

So unexpected was Bri’s attack that Trevor never moved a muscle to protect himself. His feet were firmly planted in a display of authority and his body was rooted to the floor so that his testicles took the full force of his daughter’s kick, compressing into thin discs between the top of her foot and his pubic bone, eliciting a sharp, stabbing pain that seared his brain. As they released, Trevor stood for a moment, frozen with his head snapped back and his arms thrown up. But when his body thawed, everything happened in a rush: his hands snapped to his groin, his knees hit the floor and then he collapsed onto his side, folding in on himself like a dying spider. All he could do was moan and try to force himself to breathe.

Still standing across from her husband, Claire’s body seemed anchored to the floor, and her head slued between the hallway where her daughter disappeared and her husband’s curled up body, her eyes wide with utter shock. Should she go after her daughter or tend to her husband? Though he looked pretty bad, Claire reached the conclusion that he wasn’t going to die, as much as he may have wanted to, so she set off after Bri, a wry smile dancing on her lips at her husband’s plight

Outside, Bri was standing on the porch, her arms crossed over her chest, breathing heavily, a scowl on her face as she searched the road for signs of her friends. She felt her mother’s hand rest tentatively on her shoulder but did not turn her eyes from the road. She was in no mood to receive yet another reprimand.

“Oh Bri,” Claire said, caressing her daughter’s shoulder. “Are you scared? You look flushed.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Bri said, tersely, without turning her head. “I don’t want to hear it. I just want my friends to get here so we can leave.”

Claire chuckled softly. “I understand, honey. I do.”

At the sound of her mother’s soft voice, Bri finally let her arms fall to her side and turned into her mother’s hug. Feeling her mother’s arms around her made Bri feel safe and warm, like being tucked snugly into a fluffy blanket. She could feel the love radiating from her mom’s body. “So you’re not mad?” She asked, her voice muffled as she laid her head on her mother’s shoulder.

Claire rubbed her daughter’s back. “Oh no, honey. I’m not mad at all? Why would I be mad?”

Bri looked up, surprised to see the warmth in her mother’s eye. She pulled away from her mother and ran a hand through her strawberry-blonde hair. “Because I...you know...kicked Dad in the nuts?” Her unsteady voice was a far cry from the confident young woman that strode out of the house just minutes ago.

Sensing Bri’s uncertainty, Claire favored her with a small, but warmly encouraging smile. “You don’t have to be worried, Bri,” she soothed. “Your father was way out of line. He deserved it.”

Bri looked up, her brown-gold eyes round with shock, as if to say, “Are you for real?”

“You were right in what you said, Bri,” Claire continued. “You are a grown woman now and not the little girl your Dad and I will always think of you as. So yes, you can make your own decisions and do what you want. Though I do hope you will still heed our advice and listen us,” she added. “However, in this case, your father wasn’t treating you like the woman you are. So it was the right thing to do. Maybe now he’ll see you in a different light. He’ll give you the same respect he gives me.” Claire stopped as a light bulb seemed to go off in her daughter’s eyes. “What is it, Bri?”

“Does Dad respect you because you kick him in the balls?” Bri asked, sounding hopeful but also a little guilty, like she may have revealed more than she wanted.

“Ha!” Claire said, shaking her head with a sly smile. “You did see that, didn’t you?” When Bri nodded, Claire added, “Yeah, I really nailed your dad hard. But he was being stubborn and wouldn’t let me drive his car.” Claire cocked an eye at her daughter. “You know, it was you who gave me the idea.”

“Me?” Bri asked, pulling her head back.

“Yeah. The only time I’ve ever seen your dad let someone else drive his precious car was when he let you do it after that lady at the store kicked him. He literally couldn’t drive, so he let you. I figured why not give it a try?” Claire flashed Bri a bright smile. “And it worked!”

“But,” Claire continued, “to answer your question, yes and no. He has learned to respect me because I’ve kicked him where it hurts most, but now he respects me because he knows I will do it if he doesn’t. That’s why it’s good that you kicked him just now. It will help him learn to respect you and your decisions.”

Bri felt a sudden welling of emotion deep inside her, a feeling of love and trust for her mother that she couldn’t articulate, and Bri suddenly pulled her mother into her arms.

For Claire, the huge hug from her daughter was better than any words. When they finally released each other, Claire was surprised to see the concern in Bri’s eyes.

“What about Dad? Is he going to be pissed?” Bri asked, searching her mother’s eyes.

“Don’t you worry about that, honey,” Claire assured her. “I will handle your father. All I want you to do is go out and have a good time. In fact, isn’t that Gina’s car pulling up?”

Bri turned around and saw Carissa waving to her from the passenger window of Gina’s car as it pulled to a stop in front of the house. She waved back and then gave her mom another quick hug before walking down the driveway to meet her friends.

Claire watched as the carload of girls drove off, waving until she realized she was laughing out loud. She was already imagining Bri telling the girls about Trevor’s harsh reaction to her outfit and how it made her so mad that she kicked him in the balls. Of course, Bri might not say anything at all – in fact, that was more likely. But it amused Claire to picture all the young girls’ eyes going wide as Bri recounted the ball busting she gave her father.

Trevor was right where she’d left him, Claire found as she walked back inside, though he’d managed to pull himself to his knees and prop his weight against the end of the sofa. His head was hanging like a beat dog and he was still holding tightly to his injured testicles with one hand.

“Wow. She really kicked you hard, didn’t she Trev?” Claire asked, not sounding the least bit concerned about the pain he was suffering. Truth be told, she did feel a little bad for him, but it was his own damn fault – so why shouldn’t he suffer? No need to coddle the big guy. When he didn’t look up, Claire continued her needling. “Aw c’mon, big boy. Lighten up. Don’t be such a sourpuss.” She sat down on the edge of the coffee table and crossed her legs, letting her foot swing lightly. “You should be proud to know that you’ve raised a strong, independent woman. Although, too bad for you, it took a kick in the balls to realize it.” That got his attention.

With eyes narrowed, Trevor finally looked up at his wife. “It’s not okay, Claire,” he grunted. He was still not recovered enough to use his normal voice. “This isn’t a joke. Bri’s in big trouble.”

“I don’t think so, Trev,” Claire corrected. “You’re right, it’s not a joke. But it is okay. You treated Bri like she was still a little girl. Well, she’s not. As I think that kick to your family jewels proved. I’d be careful with how you looked at me right now,” Claire warned as her husband glowered at her. “Don’t think I won’t add to your misery.”

Trevor swallowed back some of his rage when he registered the coldly sober tone of his wife’s voice. She definitely wasn’t kidding. Even more of his outrage was quelled when Claire suddenly burst out with a sharp chuckle.

“I just remember what you said earlier,” Claire confessed, when she saw the curiosity on her husband’s face. “It’s funny because I was thinking the same thing. We both thought Bri’s choice of shoes was a bit risky. I was afraid she’d break her ankles trying to dance in them and you were afraid they’d keep her from staying safe.”

Wondering where this was going, Trevor drew his eyebrows up as he squinted at his wife.

“Turns out, she proved both our concerns to be unwarranted with one simple act. If she can kick your balls that hard, I don’t have to worry about her losing her balance on the dance floor. But more importantly, you don’t have to worry about anything happening to her. If a boy gives her too much unwanted attention, she won’t need to run away if she kicks his balls as hard as she kicked yours.” Claire flicked her foot a little harder to emphasize her point.

“Oh shit,” Trevor said, looking appalled.

“What is it, Trev?” Claire asked, thinking maybe Trevor was suffering some painful repercussions.

Trevor looked at his wife with dismay. “God I hate it when you’re right,” he grumbled, alleviating his wife’s concern. “But it still doesn’t make it any better that she kicked me.”

Claire studied her husband for a moment, trying to find a way to make things easier for him to swallow. “Think of it this way, Trev. Don’t think of her as your daughter right now. I’m sure it’s hard, but if you can just push that aside, you can understand why it’s okay that she kicked you.”

“What do you mean?” Trevor asked, not quite following.

“Would you ever tell me to change my outfit?” Claire asked to begin her chain of logic.

“Well, no,” Trevor answered. “I might ask you to reconsider but I’d never demand it.”

“And why is that?”

Trevor stroked his chin with the hand that wasn’t holding his nuts. “Because you’re an adult woman and I trust your decisions. And maybe also that if I didn’t show you such respect, you’d make my nuts hurt.”

“Ha!” Claire exclaimed. “Now, if you just pretend Bri is simply an adult woman out in the world and not your daughter, doesn’t it seem right that she should kick you in the balls for being disrespectful? Just like I do?”

Defeat showed clearly in Trevor’s blue eyes. “I guess I can’t argue that, either,” he said, rather sadly.

“Cheer up,” Claire said. “Bri will always love you as her dad. Things are just a bit different now. You can’t control her and you don’t have the right to. But she will always love you, even if she occasionally has to bust you like I do.”

“I see your point,” Trevor said, grimacing. “But I still don’t like it.”

“I can understand that,” Claire said, sliding off the coffee table and rubbing her husband’s head. “Maybe it won’t happen again.”

“I can only hope,” Trevor said, holding out his hand. “Can you help me up?”

Claire smiled and pulled her still shaky husband to his feet. “It was actually quite pleasant outside. Think you could join me for a walk,” she asked, hopefully.

Trevor sighed and took a long time answering. “It would be nice, honey,” he said, before shaking his head. “But I really don’t think I could walk very far right now. I’m sorry,” he added, seeing the disappointment on his wife’s pretty face.

“Really? Are you sure you can’t tough it out for me?” Claire asked, trying to sound her sweetest.

“No. I don’t think so,” Trevor said, holding his ground.

“I think you can,” Claire sang, flashing him an encouraging smile.

“Nope.”

“Fine. But I should probably make sure you really can’t join me for a walk,” Claire said, letting the concern of a caretaker rise in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Trevor agreed, “maybe it’s best to check out the damage.” He relaxed a little as his wife walked up to him.

Claire held the sweet, caring expression she was wearing right up until the last moment, at which point she let it crease in concentration. Then she drew back her right leg and drove the toe of her suede boot, none too gently, straight into her husband’s testicles. She smiled in his face as he looked at her with a mix of surprise and utter agony. As Claire watched her husband sink to the floor for the second time in thirty minutes, she jeered, “I didn’t mean I was going to check on your nuts. I meant I was going to make sure you couldn’t walk. Did my little kick in the balls do the trick?” When he only groaned incoherently at her feet, Claire took it as a yes. “I’ll be back in a while. Maybe by then your nuts will have descended down from your throat.”

Turning away, smiling at her own witticism, Claire made for the door. Before she could reach it, a glint caught her eye. It was the sunlight reflecting off the camera lens. She plucked it up and pushed the power button, holding the viewfinder to her eye. She honed in on her husband’s rocking body, adjusting the zoom so she could see his hands clutching desperately at his fiery crotch.

Perfect, Claire thought, as she snapped a picture, the excitement already growing as she thought about sharing it with Bri. This will be the perfect illustration of how bad she can hurt a man. He can’t do anything but hold his throbbing balls for dear life after a woman kicks him hard.