I let dear daddy clean up a little before heading to the kitchen to make sure everything was just right. The cake, dinner, etc. had better be perfect or there would be hell to pay.
To me, his loving stepdaughter.
“Yeah, Claire, I think this weekend will be a LOT of fun…” My voice trailed off to my bff Claire. She wasn’t as cute as I was but she was smart and helped me pass a lot of my tests in High School. She always used to say she had a crush on my stepdad, partly to creep me out and partly because she probably DOES have a crush on dear old dad. Well, this weekend would be an… interesting one for her, to say the least.
My smiles were coming in droves now as I thought of the bright future that lay ahead for me.
My stepdad… not so much.
“So yeah, Claire, get your older brother to buy the booze and come over Saturday night. We are gonna have too much fun. My parents? HA! Let me worry about them, Claire. Trust me, this is going to be the best Saturday ever!”
Well, for Claire and I. Again, for my stepdad? Not really.
“Anyway, Mom is gonna be home soon and I have to get ready for dinner. I will talk to you Friday night or Saturday, okay?” Claire was laughing as she knew I always kinda got my way around the house, for the most part, and sleepovers and parties were always a blast. If she only knew how much MORE fun they were going to be from now on!
All-day had been a brutal tease fest for my loving stepfather but tonight had to be extra special. And I had to keep Mom from finding out about daddy’s new… role in my life. Well, for a little while longer, anyway. Eventually, she would find out, of course, and that would work for me, too. If daddy knew THAT, he might be less inclined to… play along, but he DIDN’T.
Again, not YET, anyway.
“Oh DADDY!” My sing-song voice had the happy tone of a little teenager ready to play. Which was exactly what I was, just not in a NICE way.
“Yuh… yes Miss Jane?” Scared.
I pouted. Mostly genuine, but a little evil as well.
“Oh, now daddy you don’t sound happy to hear your loving little girl come looking for dear ol’ daddy?”
“I am sorry, Miss Jane, it’s… it isn’t that at all!” Desperation.
My tone was only slightly cheery at this.
“Whatever. Now daddy, let’s take a look at what you’ve done in the kitchen…”
I let his fear build, and his anticipation grow. I always was a little bit of a tease but that was before I was faced with this new, ultimate, power, over someone.
It was getting to my head and leading me to dark places.
Lovely, wonderful, dark places.
Well, lovely and wonderful for ME, that is.
“Counter looks good… dishes dried and put away… utensils cleaned and in their drawers… good so far…” I took the tone my mother might use with the next word.
“Oh, yes…” He was frozen and hurt.
“…thank you, Miss Jane.”
“Yes, yes… so very grateful and polite, aren’t you…. dear.” That tone again.
The familiarity was paralyzing to him.
“I am, Miss Jane.”
His formality and submissiveness were intoxicating and served to drive me harder.
Or, more precisely, served to drive me to drive HIM harder.
“I bet you are getting all fucking hard and wet again, aren’t you bitch?”
“…yes, Miss Jane, thank you.”
The shame was thick.
“Disgusting. Well, keep that shit under control. We can’t have mom smelling you cumming in your pants, can we? I mean, I have already graciously allowed you to change your pants a couple of times today and I think you are simply trying my patience…”
“Oh, Miss Jane, please, I only meant…”
“Of course, daddy. You taught me to always show respect. In this case, you are demonstrating an appropriate amount of respect for the one who literally has your ass.
“And HAD your ass, you faggot.”
“Yuh… yes, Miss.”
I was getting worked up again. This was simply too much for me to take and I kept letting my control for him get me hot and bothered.
“Fucking little bitch. You are pathetic and weak, driven by some perverse desire to submit and beg…and be spineless. What kind of man are you?”
A leading question. And one he couldn’t answer without angering me.
“I, that is, Miss Jane, I am…”
SLAP!! I had grown so comfortable slapping dear daddy in his fat fucking face.
“I am…not a man, Miss Jane.”
“That is correct! You are nothing more than a bitch. My pet. You serve at my pleasure and that’s IT. Not for yourself, not in a way that any self-respecting PERSON would.”
“….thank you, Miss.”
“Exactly right. In fact, if no PERSON would, then you must be…??”
Another leading question intended to sew the seeds of his perpetual degradation.
“Not a person. An animal, maybe…”
“Maybe. But no, not a person. Maybe some kind of animal, would you like that, daddy?”
My continued use of the loving word ‘daddy’, and said with the sweet tone I used, seemed to brutalize my stepfather as much as any knife of punch to the gut.
“I…. if it pleases you, Miss Jane.”
I mocked him. Something ELSE I grew very comfortable with.
“‘If it pleases you…’ Wow.”
“Seriously… you are a piece of work. I remember when I would look up to you…”
I carefully moved towards him, hips swaying, eyes ablaze with lust, and I watched him cower before his tender, 18-year-old stepdaughter.
“You would carry me to bed and read lovely stories to me of happy endings and warm, fuzzy experiences…”
He almost stammered something… a protest, perhaps?
“And I would eagerly wait for the next night to hear more. Well, daddy, I still love our little times together but I have something ELSE to look forward to these days, and can you guess at what that is?”
My sing-song tone was back, again reminding him of a time when he WAS my father, and I WAS his loving little girl.
That seemed so far away right now, for me as much as for him.
“I am not sure Miss Jane… maybe to spend time with me?”
“HA! A good one. And what kind of ‘time’ would that be, daddy?”
“Yes? Where I what, daddy?”
I smiled so wide I thought my face would fall apart.
“Don’t WHAT, dear daddy? Don’t come towards you…like this…” I was so close he could smell me and, like any other man I have ever known, he seemed to get a little light headed as he took in my scent.
“Don’t touch you…” My hand went to his lips again. He had nice lips.
“Don’t do… this?” I stepped forward, leaning into him and pinning him to the kitchen counter.
“Don’t…” And I reached my hand slowly down, locking his eyes.
“…reach into your pants for your little worm?”
My hands were a little cold and the shiver that went through him was practically electric. I roughly grabbed him and squeezed. Hard.
His wince and pain got me hot.
“Your worm seems happy to ‘see’ me, bitch. So tell me, daddy… what would you like your loving daughter to do next?”
He would lose. His pain would be legendary.
He had no fucking chance against me.
“I… don’t, Miss Jane…”
“DON’T?? Did you say DON’T to me?”
His eyes went wide as if he was staring at an oncoming train.
“No, I didn’t mean….!”
Too late. My grip was iron and he fell to his knees swifter than a bolt of lightning strikes the earth. I leaned down, cleavage in his face, and did not lose my crushing grip on him for a millisecond.
“Please, I adore you Miss Jane and I meant no disrespect… I obey, you know I obey now, Miss…”
“Obey. Spineless fuck. Of course, you do. Tell me something I DON’T know…”
He was tearing up again. The emotional agony must have been fantastic.
And it was fantastically arousing for me to inflict on my former-father.
“I am so very sorry, Miss Jane… I will do anything, that is…”
“Yes, yes… anything at all. This is a given at this point. You, dear daddy, are a broken toy for me to use and abuse. I love it, this…”
Twisting again, his cry of pain was ear-splitting.
“Thuu…. thank you, Miss Jane.”
“For what, daddy?”
“For hurting me like this, Miss Jane.”
“For even touching my useless excuse for a cock, Miss Jane. I do not deserve…”
“No, you don’t. And yes, even touching it makes me feel… soiled. You are leaking and I think I have some of your repulsive slime on my lovely little fingers…”
I withdrew my hand from his pants and the look of loss on his face was painful. Wonderfully painful.
“…see? Look at your slime!”
I shoved my pre-cum coated fingers into his face, smearing his cheeks before shoving my fingers into his mouth. I shoved them the same way I would violate his ass and face later with my strap on cock.
Another smile played on my lovely face, and I felt radiant.
“Yes….I am sorry Miss Jane…”
“I know you are, sweets. Now show me HOW sorry….”
I didn’t have to ask twice. His tender lips gently moved over my fingers and licked off his own fluids.
“Jesus… eager little fuck, aren’t you? I am not sure if I am more proud of you being so totally broken or disgusted at how much of a total faggot you are?”
I smiled again, triumphant.
“Actually, it’s probably both, huh?”
“Yuh… yes, Miss Jane. Probably both.”
“HA!! Thought so… I wonder if mom knows you are hiding in the closet from her?”
His shame was thick and his heated face warmed me in so many ways.
“Please what? Tell her? Do you the favor of letting her know what a fag you are?”
“I, I didn’t mean…”
“Then what, daddy? Tell your little girl what you want.” So nice and sweet.
“I, I would like to keep your mother out of this.”
“This? You mean you taking a cock deep in your ass? Sucking your seed from your loving daughter’s fingers? I am afraid you will have to be more specific, daddy.”
“Please don’t tell your mother about any of this, please.” He was on the verge of tears. Again.
“Well, frankly I don’t see what is in it for me. You always were so strong…”
I teased his nipple through his shirt.
“…so stern at times…”
Pinching the nipple made him squirm.
“…always instilling in me how to set an example…”
Leering down at him cruelly.
“…strive to be honest, and trustworthy.”
“Yes, Miss Jane, I know, it’s just that…I never…”
“Never what? Never saw yourself on your knees like this? I find that hard to believe. No, I think it more likely you never saw yourself kneeling before your own loving stepdaughter.”
“I didn’t, ever, Miss Jane.”
“Tell me, daddy…” A pregnant pause.
“What do you think of your dear daughter now?”
Another no-win question. If he answered truthfully, the shame and debasement would be total.
And if he tried to lie to me, then he would suffer at my hands. Well, suffer worse than he had already, to be more accurate.
“I adore you, Miss Jane.”
“Awww, how sweet! Adore me in that, ‘I love you, daughter of mine’ or…”
My hand went from his nipples to his cheek. His hot, tear-stained cheek.
“…or adore me because I am your goddess.”
“You, are…” He struggled. Poor thing. I almost felt pity for him, but my arousal was stronger.
“My goddess. I adore you, Miss Jane.”
“How very lovely, daddy. Just look at you, kneeling before your own stepdaughter, suffering for her, and you just devoted yourself to me as your goddess.”
For a second I saw a flash of happiness and pride in his eyes, likely at my praise at pleasing me.
Well, that simply wouldn’t do.
“Completely disgusting. You dismiss your vows to your wife, my own biological mother, and declare me your goddess. Much as I appreciate the devotion, the simple fact is that you are a vile worm for degrading yourself like this. Demonstrating to me that you are as spineless as I have said.”
My hand pinched his cheek.
“So cute when you are broken, like this…”
“Repulsive. How could I ever see you as anything but a disgusting pervert?”
“I…please… that is…”
“Yes? Please, dear daddy of mine, tell me how I could think of you in a different light? See you as human again rather than a perverted slave of mine?”
“You… you can’t.”
His erection was raging, threatening to tear through his pants as he knelt before his own daughter.
“Nope. Sure can’t.” I leaned back and prodded his cock with my shoe.
“I mean…look at yourself, bitch.”
He stared down at his tented pants and my shoe casually poking at it.
“Look at that. Hard as a rock because your once-loving daughter is humiliating you about what a repulsive pervert you are. I wonder…”
Another pause. My smile was widening.
“How long have you had these feelings for me, daddy?”
His gaze snapped up from my shoe to my eyes with sheer horror.
“I didn’t, Miss Jane… that is to say…”
“What, you never thought I was cute?” My feigned innocence was paralyzing to him as I continued to play on his weakness.
“It isn’t that, Miss Jane, I… you have always been…”
“What, daddy? I have always been what?”
With tears practically streaming down his hot face he said the words.
“My princess. You have always been my beautiful princess.”
“If you could only see yourself now, daddy. Kneeling before your princess.”
“I am so sorry Miss Jane. You have always meant so much to me…” His shame was total, and I could see he never harbored the kinds of thoughts that were now racing through his muddled mind.
“And now, daddy? How is it different now?”
I wasn’t sure if he would say it…
“You mean everything to me.”
But he did.
I was his world, now in every way.
“That’s a good little bitch for Miss Jane.” I condescendingly patted his head, almost slick with sweat.
“Thu… thank you, Miss Jane.” He seemed to be getting light-headed. Wonderful.
“Yes, yes… my pathetic, loving, daddy, is my slave.”
A simple statement of fact.
“Daddy, I won’t lie to you…” Holding back a smile.
“Yes, Miss Jane?” His eyes pleaded with me.
“…You are going to suffer a lot from now on.”
“Please, Miss Jane…” He wanted to say the word ‘No’ but he knew better.
“Oh, it will be delightful…
“…for me. My loving daddy, kneeling at my heel like the loyal lapdog you have become. You have been reduced to my pet from my father figure. I can’t imagine how disgusted you must be with yourself to give in to these perverse… needs?” I was genuinely asking if he needed this treatment. It seemed obvious, but then, daddy always said it is best to illustrate everything, including the seemingly obvious point!
I felt the need to illustrate the obvious point.
“Answer the fucking question, bitch.”
“I, yes, Miss Jane. I need this.”
“Need what, daddy? What exactly do you need from your loving daughter?” I would never tire of rubbing his perverted face in it.
“I need… for you to treat me as you do, Miss.”
“I gathered as much.” Again flicking my shoe at his tented dick.
“So does mom have any idea?” Something else I would always enjoy bringing up.
“I don’t believe so, Miss Jane.”
“I wonder… what would my lovely mother think of her husband now? Kneeling…
“By her daughter?”
“Please, Miss Jane…”
“Say it, filth.”
“She would be heartbroken.”
“I bet. At the very least. I mean, she fucking shares a bed with you…with that!” Tapping his dick again.
“I know Miss Jane, please…”
I wanted to hurt him again.
“Please what? Say it… tell me what you want from me, daddy?”
“Please don’t tell anyone about this.”
“Don’t? Did you say ‘don’t’ to me, dear daddy?” My tone grew sharp as I was getting angrier.
“I just mean that, please Miss Jane, not mother…”
“‘Not’? I don’t seem to have gotten through to you, bitch!”
“I OWN you, whore!”
“You are a pervert.”
“A repulsive piece of shit almost-pedophile!”
“But Miss, you have been over 18 for…”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I wondered, passingly, if the neighbors could hear me abuse my daddy?
How awesome would THAT be?
“God damn worm. You really are a fucking pathetic piece of shit, you know that?”
He was stunned, his face crimson, and flushed from his heavy breathing. Regardless, he shouldn’t have hesitated to answer. He should know better by now. When he was raising me he always said it is impolite to leave a question hanging without an answer.
Hang this, bitch.
“I asked you a question. You do NOT hesitate when I give you an order or ask you a question, no exceptions, is that clear?”
“Yes, Miss Jane, I am so…”
“Sorry indeed. You will obey me as though I am your fucking goddess. I am your world now. My mother has no say in your life anymore. I rule you, whore.”
He was going to cry. Again.
“Please Miss Jane, I only want…”
“Want what? To please me? Of course, you always have. And now you will please me further by obeying me and allowing me to have fun at your expense.
“You deserve it. You are an animal. Nothing more. Well, maybe even LESS…”
“Yes, Miss Jane. I am…thank you…” He was sobbing and choking back tears.
“So lovely. Cry for me, daddy. Let those tears come down your slapped cheeks even as your cock is rock hard from my abuse. Fucking pervert.”
“Yes, Miss Jane.”
“Now then, once mother gets home she will likely ask about your face. Frankly I don’t give a shit what you tell her unless you even TRY to bring me up. She might not notice how rosy red your pretty little cheeks are, but if she DOES, you had better not let her suspect that I made you my whore today, bitch.”
“Of course, Miss Jane.”
“That’s what princess likes to hear, daddy!”
My smile seemed to be sunshine in a pitch-black room for him… as it should be.
“Now finish up here. Nice plates, nice glasses, the works. I will give you 15 minutes to get showered and pretty before she gets here and not ONE FUCKING MINUTE MORE. Is that clear?”
“Yes Miss Jane, thank you.”
“Once you have showered, report to my room for inspection and…well… just report to my room.”
The fear in his eyes was screaming for mercy.
“You will be greeting mother in an unusual fashion this evening. That won’t be the only surprise, either, you pervert.”
“I…. thank you, Miss Jane.” Gratitude was the last thing on his mind now!
“Whatever…” I left him there, kneeling, hot, flushed, sweating, and horny.
And except for the kneeling part, I was right there with my dear daddy.
“Thank you for allowing me to prepare the kitchen, Miss Jane.”
My stepfather was dressed nicely, shiny shoes, neat slacks, and was smelling of that heady cologne that mom and I bought him for his birthday. Poor daddy didn’t know he would not be needing men’s scents for much longer, but that came later. Daddy also made a serious error which, frankly, I expected.
I always was good at getting my way, to a point. But now set traps for my bitch daddy was something too easy for me.
“What the fuck is THIS?” I gestured up and down towards him.
“What, I…what do you mean, Miss Jane?” His fear and shock were a lovely cocktail for me.
“I said you could shower, correct?”
“Yes Miss Jane.”
I think he was catching on to his mistake. Well, if he kept doing that I would have to simply work harder to frustrate and manipulate him. But for now, things were still easy.
I grabbed his shirt by the collar.
“My…” And he knew his error, his mind racing and terrified.
“…it is my shirt, Miss Jane.”
“Yes. A man’s shirt. Let us ignore the fact that you have no business wearing a man’s shirt as you are simply a fucking worm. No, there is a bigger problem here, do you know what that IS, bitch?”
“I… you allowed me to shower but you did not allow me to get dressed, Miss Jane.”
“Good girl! Exactly right!”
I moved to my vanity, grabbed my hairbrush (a gift from mom), and walked back over to him.
“Daddy, you always complimented me on my lovely hair, didn’t you?”
I was smiling wickedly.
“I…yes Miss Jane.”
“And do you remember how you used to brush my hair sometimes? When mom might have to work late?”
“Yes, Miss Jane.”
“Well, this hairbrush serves in…other ways as well.
“My boyfriend would spank me with this sometimes. My real man boyfriend would take me over his knee and paddle my ass raw. I mean, nowhere nearly as bad as I whipped your ass so far but then…”
I looked up from the brush into his sad eyes.
“I am no pervert, am I daddy?”
His shame was complete. And another trap would ensure I would have my fun at his ass’ expense.
And for years and years to come.
“No, Miss Jane.”
“You…understand what happens when you say that word, don’t you daddy?”
“I do, Miss. Thank you, Miss.”
“Hands-on the vanity, whore.”
He rushed to the vanity and pressed his hands into it until I could see white from the pressure.
His fear was delicious.
“Stay still, bitch.”
I locked his eyes in the vanity’s mirror as he was bent over, hands pressed downwards, with me behind him. I carefully set the brush down next to his hand, making sure it touched him a little.
I gently reached around and unbuckled his belt.
“Please, Miss Jane…I…”
“Use your words, dear.” A phrase he often chided me with.
His shame at those words being spoken by me dug deep into him. His eyes began to tear again.
“I am so sorry, Miss.”
“HA! Just as I thought… you have already used the word ‘No’ once right now. Good for you not to make that mistake again or it would be much worse for you, dear.” Another rephrasing of something he would tell me as a child.
My hands went back to his belt buckle and I thought of a way to truly twist him.
“I think…mom might be here within a couple of minutes…”
I feigned absentminded reflection while, in fact, I was considering how and when I would let mom know what a pervert her husband really was. I could see in the mirror that daddy shifted a little. His erection was obvious and I would enjoy teasing him, as always.
“Golly, I hope she doesn’t get here early.”
My expert hands unbuckled his belt from behind. I gently pressed up against him with my tight, young body. As if I would have anything to do with him except…this.
“You won’t like this very much.” My smile at him in the mirror carved him some more.
The belt unbuckled, I slowly unzipped his fly, dragging his slacks slowly making sure to apply a slight amount of pressure to his stiff dick, and let his pants slide down around his ankles. His red faced shame at his paralyzing arousal was tough to see through the red face I gave him.
Leaning back, I grabbed the brush again and maintained eye contact. Daddy always said it showed you really cared.
“Count them for me, bitch. Know there are extras as you said ‘No’ to me.”
“Yes, Miss Jane…thank you.”
His gratitude at the beating I was going to give him made me hot.
I barely heard him through the blood rushing through my ears as I wailed on his ass with the brush. I was worried I might break it before I was finished having my fun. I think he was crying, and I heard him sobbing again when he reached…
“That should be enough for now, bitch.”
The relief in his eyes was warm and loving.
I reached the brush around to his face.
“Kiss it, whore. Use your fucking lips on this like it’s mom.”
He did, of course. His rock hard cock was leaking and glistening from the oozing pre-cum as his lips tenderly met the brush that flayed his ass a few seconds ago. He was lost in lust and extremely turned on at the degradation, shifting uncomfortably to ease his frustration. It seemed as though nothing was off-limits to daddy anymore. I would continue to test that.
Setting the brush down in his sight so the humiliation of it all stayed with him I went to my closet. Grabbing the panties from earlier and my used toy I strutted back to my slave.
I didn’t really care what he said. I think he was grateful-sounding but I was more focused on the task at hand and keeping my hands from fingering myself to orgasm.
I opened a drawer of my vanity, again in sight of daddy, and took out my tube of KY and slowly drank in the implications running through daddy’s mind as I did it. No doubt he was feeling like the protective, judgemental father figure who couldn’t imagine why I would have such a thing. Contrast that with the simple fact that daddy couldn’t hide his complete arousal at my abuse and domination of him.
Opening the tube, I squirted a little on the tip (not enough, really), and placed the dildo gently at his ass crack. Watching his eyes intently, I slowly rammed the 7″ fake dick into his asshole until it was gone. Smiling down at daddy…
“Lovely. My faggot daddy took the dick in his ass again like a good girl! Now turn around, whore.”
He raised up, clearly uncomfortable and ashamed, and turned to face me, his loving daughter.
Throwing the stained panties in his face, I hissed at him.
“Put these on, bitch.”
“Yes, Miss Jane, thank you…”
His humiliations would be never-ending with me around. He slowly slipped out of his slacks and moved the too-small panties up his legs to the stiff rod pointing at me, dripping and slick.
“Faster, whore! Mom will be here any minute and I don’t want her seeing your pansy ass in my room!”
“Yes, Miss Jane, apologies…” So scared. He swiftly dragged the panties on, careful to keep my cock deep in his ass while trying to avoid too much friction on his hard dick.
“Good girl. Pants up, NOW!”
Of course, he quickly complied.
“Now then, get to the kitchen, whore.”
He looked at me, still tented, and a little puzzled.
“I will let you wear your man-clothes for tonight to cover up my cock in your ass and my stained panties that you’re wearing…”
Then I let the proverbial other shoe drop.
“…But you will be wearing the pretty little apron all night for mother’s party. If she asks you will say you don’t want to make a mess of your clothes or something. Honestly, I don’t give a shit what you tell her…I just want her getting used to seeing you as the panty-waist faggot we both know you really are.”
I let his stomach drop as his ego was crushed a little more under my heel. This just keeps getting better and better…