Daddy Stories - Lust Moments stories

Amy And Her Daddy At the Movies

Posted on 01/12/2020 by pseudonymous

There once was a girl named Amy. She really, really wanted to go see an R rated movie, but she wasn’t allowed to go without her Daddy to go with her. She’d bribed her Daddy and begged him for ages to get him to go with her.

I know it is your day to cum, but...

It was raining out, and Amy’s dress was soaked through as she and her Daddy walked into the theatre. Daddy had carried an umbrella, but he walked too quickly for her to catch up to him properly. Amy had sandy blonde wavy hair, that felt just to her shoulders. It was a bit darker than usual, because she was all wet. She wore a dark blue summer dress and brown sandals. She was rather slender and short, and many people thought she looked younger than she really was.

Her Daddy was a rather handsome man, and lots of women liked him- Daddy was very popular with the ladies, but his favorite girl to play with was Amy! He shook out his umbrella, making Amy grin- holding out her hands to shield herself from the water. She’d forgotten her coat at home, because she had been hoping Daddy would have shared his.

She held herself around her middle, following her Daddy to the concession stand- people were already waiting in the long line. They were cutting it close, and this was a really big movie that everyone wanted to go to.

“Daddy?” Amy whispered tugging on her Daddy’s sleeve. “Can I get some chocolate?”

“Maybe later, if you are a good girl.” Daddy said with a little smirk.

Amy blushed a little at this, looking down at her wet shoes. She knew what that smirk meant.

They waited patiently in line, Amy huddling against her Daddy- she was a little cold now, with the air conditioning and everything. She peered up at her Daddy hopefully, and he wrapped an arm about her shoulders, pulling her a little close.
Amy grinned a bit, leaning against him, not caring if people were glancing their way. As Amy and her Daddy approached the front of the line, Amy could hear the other customers talking in front of them.

“Isn’t she a bit young for him?” One woman hissed to the other, glaring a little at Amy.

Amy frowned at this, and glanced up at her Daddy. Her Daddy spoke up. “She’s my daughter.” He said firmly. Both women quickly looked away quickly, flushing a little. While she wasn’t really his daughter in blood, it was just easier to say such things to get people to leave them alone. Also, Amy liked the thought of having a Daddy. And her Daddy liked being her Daddy too.

Amy grinned a bit, and the two ladies approached the counter and bought their tickets. Amy and her Daddy stepped up towards the counter. She pointed towards the sign. “Two for that movie, please!”

The clerk looked sad. “Sorry kid, we’re all sold out! Just sold the last two tickets!”

Amy groaned in frustration, and she looked to her Daddy pleadingly. Daddy was looking up at the listing with a frown. “Alright. Thank you, sir.”

He took Amy’s hand, and led her out of the theatre lobby. Amy was very upset- she had really, really wanted to see that movie.

“I really wanted to see that Movie, Daddy.”

“I know, pumpkin, I’ll see what we can do. Don’t worry, Daddy will fix it.”

Amy grinned at this, and they walked out of the building. He opened his umbrella, walking a bit slower so she could huddle up with him.

“Where are we going?” Amy asked, as she realized that they weren’t going to the parking lot, but around to the back of the building.

“Shush, it is a surprise.” Her Daddy whispered with a grin. Amy loved surprises!

“Daddy…what are you doing?” She asked, as her Daddy opened the back door of the theatre.

“Just this once, we’re going to break a little rule. Our little secret, right baby?”

Amy giggled, and the two of them slipped in the back door. “If they are sold out, there won’t be anywhere to sit.” She whispered.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ve got it covered.”

Amy followed her Daddy to the theatre, watching him close his umbrella again. She followed him into the darkened theatre, and saw that the ads were already playing
They went all the way to the back row, where one seat was free, at the very end.
Daddy sat down first, and put Amy in his lap. Amy grinned at this, wrapping her arms about her Daddy’s neck. What if there hadn’t been a seat? Would they have had to sit on the sticky floor? Ew.

Still, she was glad to get a seat, and she considered it to be the best, because it was in her Daddy’s lap.

Finally, the movie began to play, and Amy was entranced by the gross horror of it all. She squirmed, covering her eyes, allowing her Daddy to hold her tight.

“You alright?” Her Daddy whispered in her ear.

Amy nodded slowly, burying her face in his neck. “It’s scary, Daddy.”

“I know, sweetheart, that’s why it’s for grown-ups. Do you want to leave?”

Amy shook her head with a small smile, pressing her lips against his warm skin. “No, I like sitting here with you, Daddy.”

Daddy smiled, adjusting her on his lap a little, kissing the top of her head. He pet her hair, and she flinched as there was a loud scream coming from the screen.

She buried her face again, and she could feel her Daddy rubbing up and down her back soothingly, trying to calm her down. Somehow, though, she was getting more excited!

Her heart was racing, and as her Daddy slid his hand over her bum, she lifted her head from his shoulder, glancing around to everyone else. Their eyes were glued onto the screen, and no one was watching. Daddy and Amy glanced at one another, and she gave her Daddy a small nod.

Daddy slipped an arm around her, and she shifted in his lap, allowing him to undo the front of his trousers, and pull up her skirt a little. Once she seated herself again, his cock was pressing up against her knickers.

Amy giggled, tipping her head back a little as he reached down, fondling her through the thin cotton fabric. He kissed her hair, continuing to rub her slit through the cloth.

“Daddy, please?” She whispered, rocking her hips against his erection. He gave her a small nod, and he pulled her knickers aside. Amy licked her lips of the sensation of the cool air on her wet slit- in the theatre, no one looked like they had any idea what was going on. It was dark, and everyone’s eyes were on the screen, watching some busty lady get chased by the murderer…

Amy had long since forgotten the film, rocking her hips against her Daddy’s cock, feeling his erection pressing up against her. Amy slowly lifted her hips up, allowing his erection to lift a little- she slid onto his cock with a small whimper- she covered her mouth with both hands.

The couple next to them glanced over, and the woman spoke. “Are you a little scared, dear?”

“Just a little.” Amy gasped, biting her lip with a small smile.

Her Daddy’s cock was inside her, and she could tell by his heavy breathing and the way his hands were clenched around his hips that he was having trouble controlling himself. She slowly began to move up and down in his lap, making it look like she was squirming, covering her face and mouth with shaking hands.

Her Daddy was breathing heavily against her neck and ear, pressing a light kiss against her neck. “Good girl. Go slow and easy.”

Yes, Daddy.” Amy Whispered with a shaky smile.

His cock was hard, and reached all the way up- she was very lucky she was on the pill, ‘cos she would have gotten pregnant ages ago
Had she remembered to take it today?
Amy couldn’t remember.

But she still rocked her hips, holding her Daddy’s arms tightly around her middle as she slowly eased herself up and down his cock, their movements as subtle as possible.

His hips quickened a little, and Amy’s toes curled in her shoes- Daddy was biting at her ear now, and she let out a breathless groan.

The couple next to them looked over, concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Stomach ache, I think,” Amy said quietly.

The woman spoke. “Well, maybe you should lay off on the sweets, dear.”

Amy gave her Daddy a pleading look. “Daddy, I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay?”

“Alright. Be back soon, okay? Daddy asked, covering his lap with his jacket as she slowly withdrew herself from his lap.

“…Well…I might not come back. This movie is really scary.”

“Alright baby, let’s go home.” Her Father murmured, keeping his jacket closed. She led the way out of the threatre, her hands shaking- Daddy was walking out of the theatre behind her, but slower, his erection making it a little hard to walk.

Amy quickly ducked into the girl’s loo, and Daddy followed- they didn’t care if anyone else was in the loo. But in less than a moment, her Daddy was bending her over one of the sinks, yanking up her skirt. He was pulling down her knickers, stretching it taught against her thighs.

Daddy was pushing his coat apart, and with a thrust, he was inside her! Amy groaned loudly, clutching the white porcaline of the sink. She could see her reflection in the sink mirror as her Daddy fucked her from behind. It was so naughty- not only had they snuck into the theatre, but now they were fucking in the loo where anyone could see them!

“Daddy…oh…Daddy…harder!”

Daddy grinned at this,his hips pistoning in and out of her. Amy stared at her flushed face, her gaping mouth, her mussed hair. Her Daddy was behind her, and there was such a sexy look on his face- he looked at her in the mirror, and she gave him a little grin.

With a little thrust, he was making her cry out again. She struggled to keep her balance on the floor, arms shaking as she tried to support herself. “Daddy….ooh, feels good.” Daddy slapped her bum hard, the sound ringing through the loo loudly. She shook at the sensation, gritting her teeth.

“I’m getting close, baby.”

Amy groaned a little at this. “Daddy, I don’t remember if I took the pill today or not.” Amy gasped.

“Well, that’s your problem, you should have remembered, little one.”

Amy groaned at this- honestly, she didn’t see it as a problem at all. Amy bounced a little as his thrusts got faster- that turned him on, didn’t it? Maybe he really wanted to knock her up?

“Daddy, oh….fuck, yes…fuck me….” Amy cried, hands gripping the sink tight.
“Almost there…” Her Daddy groaned. “Sooo…close!”

The loo door opened slowly, revealing the lady from earlier, and her eyes widened as she saw the couple there. Her Daddy was suddenly cumming inside her, practically shaking with desire.

Amy gasped, watching the woman’s expression in the mirror, feeling her Daddy come inside her. Her body was taught, feeling the sensation of him filling her up. “Daddy….oh….wow…I love it when you cum in me.” She whispered this with a relish, watching the woman’s face flush a little. She hadn’t moved from the open doorway, her mouth still dropped open.

The woman finally came to her senses and left the bathroom quickly, slamming the door behind her.

Amy groaned as her Daddy slid out of her wet cunt, and she could feel his cum still full in her tummy. A little trickled out, but not much. Daddy was pulling up her knickers, not caring if they were being reported at that second.

Amy was slowly standing up and turning around. “That was really good, Daddy”
“I’m glad you liked it, Baby. Go clean yourself up in the stall, and don’t you dare clean my cum out.”

“Yes, Daddy.” Amy went into one of the stalls and began to clean herself up
She could hear her Daddy cleaning up at the sink.

Amy loved her Daddy. She glanced through the crack in the door and could see her Daddy washing his hands at the sink. She giggled to herself, wondering if they were going to get banned from the theatre, or if the lady wasn’t going to tell on them. Still, they should probably leave soon, either way.

Soon, the two of them were leaving the bathroom, hand in hand, and saw the woman from before just outside the door, blushing a little. Amy gave her a little finger-wiggle, and they laughed quietly as they headed towards the back door.

The ice slave

Posted on 03/09/2020 - 21/11/2020 by pseudonymous

It was difficult for Angela to be her own dominant. So far though, that is as far as it had gone. Single, thirty, and lonely she daily did her duty by going to work in the office and spending eight hours a day typing the boring reports her boss dictated. At the office, she always appeared a modest professional woman. Little did they guess her fantasies. Besides herself there were four men and four other women who worked at the small legal firm and Angela would have gladly submitted to any one of the of either gender if they only had the stones to command her. Of course, she never talked about any of this at the office. That talk was saved for the evenings and weekends when she would sit naked in her small apartment typing away at her computer in a BDSM chat room where she called herself “The Ice Slave.”

Mistresses into tease and denial near

She called herself the Ice Slave for a simple reason. She had been at the store one day and seen a device that was used to make your own Popsicles. Basically, it was a plastic tray that had six round tubes that you poured Kool-Aid into and then you inserted these plastic handle things into the tubes, then you put it into the freezer until the Kool-Aid froze. Angela found that if she filled the mold with water she would get six really nice frozen cocks with plastic handles on them and she would sit on a large fluffy towel and fuck herself with the frozen dildos while she typed out her fantasies or read fantasies others were typing out.

Fantasy after fantasy after fantasy had been read and written for more than a year before someone mentioned the phrase self-bondage. Bondage was what she craved but she had trouble finding ways to bind her self where she was actually unable to release herself for a time but then able to release her self later when her time was up.

Eventually, she met one other person in the chat room who both lived in the same city and appeared to be someone she could trust. The other person was a girl whose screen name was “Brittle” and on their first meeting, Angela found Brittle just as confused and lonely as she was.

They tried having a relationship but it just didn’t work as either one of them wanted to be dominant. They both craved the submission. They tried having dates where one of them would bind the other and later release her but Brittle always bound Angela in a way that was appealing to Brittle, not to Angela, and of course, the same was true when Angela was in charge. Eventually, they agreed that they could not be lovers or BDSM partners, but they could help each other out as safe-calls. The way it worked was that they exchanged keys, and then Angela could call Brittle and request that she come to Angela’s apartment at a prescribed time simply to unbind Angela. Then, Angela could start earlier and bind herself in some way and remain bound until Brittle got there to simply unbind her. Angela could also return the favor.

The first time they tried it Angela arrived at Brittle’s apartment to find the young girl naked and standing with her hands locked in standard handcuffs to the ceiling fan. The key had been tossed on the floor where Brittle could see it but not quite reach it with her toes. They understood it was dangerous. I mean they both lived in apartment buildings. What would happen if some burglar had broken in to rob the place two hours before Angela was scheduled to show up and found Brittle there naked and bound? What would have happened if there had been a fire in the apartment down the hall? What would have happened if Angela would have gotten in a car crash on her way over to free Brittle?

The two women discussed these things and acknowledged the danger but they both realized that the danger they were placing themselves in was the thing that got them off, so they continued. They did refine things a bit. For instance, Angela would rarely tell Brittle to come over at say 3:00 PM. She would be more likely to say something like “I will bind me at noon, come over to free me sometime between 3:00 and 7:00.”

Angela had also figured out a way to bind her self for a good deal of time and still be able to release herself without the help of her safe-call. She would use her old friend, ice, to accomplish this. So she started working on her most complex project to date.

It started by clearing everything out of her small dining room. Living by herself she hardly ever used the dining room anyway so it was no big deal to give up space. Once the dining room was cleared she bought some lumber and built a special chair. Basically, it was a sawhorse with the long part made out of a sturdy 4×4 and the rest built out of 2x4s and all screwed together with stout long screws. It was 18 inches high and about three feet long. She would sit on this sawhorse as part of her bondage. She placed the horse at one end of the dining room. Since she would be sitting on it for a good deal of the time she added a wooden plug made from a shovel handle that was two full inches in diameter and tapered into a round point at the end. She cut off six inches of the handle and threw out the rest of the shovel. She mounted the wooden dildo right in the middle of the seat of the sawhorse so that she would have to impale her ass on it as she sat. She affixed it with plenty of good glue and let it dry so that it was firmly a part of the piece of furniture.

She added leather straps to the legs of the sawhorse so that when she sat on it she could spread her legs and buckle them into the straps holding them open. She also added a large leather belt that ran from one side of the seat to the other. Once she had sat down on the bench with the shovel handle firmly inside her she would buckle this strap across her lap so that she would not be able to raise herself up off the seat freeing herself of the dildo. Of course, with her hands-free she would easily be able to unbuckle herself and free herself any time she wanted, but, she did not intend to allow her hands to remain free.

Using a bracket she firmly bolted a pair of handcuffs to the side of the seat so that they would hang just below her pussy when she was sitting on the seat. The bench was now ready. She could easily be bound into the device. Once seated and buckled in she could snap the handcuffs onto her wrists and she would be firmly held until someone handed her the key. As anxious as she was to try it she resisted the urge to call Brittle and set up a scene. She was not yet done with her project.

She put two eyehooks in the ceiling and tested them for fit. She had to move the bench only slightly to get it in the correct position. She completed the device on a Monday night. She would test the timing and balance every single night that week, and then, if Brittle was available for Saturday evening, Angela would try the device on Saturday. It would be a long week at work.

Each day at work she would get through the day typing the boring reports while fantasizing about kneeling in front of one of her co-workers and accepting them as her Master or Mistress and pledging to do anything they might command no matter what it was that they commanded. Each night she would arrive home even more unfulfilled.

Friday night, before she went to bed but after the final test, she made the final preparation by filling an empty gallon jug, that had originally held milk, with water, and placing it in the freezer. That night she dreamed of being a man’s sex and bondage slave. He would tie her up in the most delicious ways and use her for quick fierce sex that was totally designed to please himself. Her pleasure would not matter a single iota to him. Somehow his face looked familiar. In her dream, the face never became really clear but Angela was pretty sure it was her boss at work. She fantasized of him often.

The first thing she did on Saturday morning was to open the freezer and check her water. As she knew it would be the milk container was full of hard frozen ice. Everything was ready. It would be a long day waiting. Angela made herself a light breakfast. It is all she would eat before her long afternoon of self-bondage. She wanted to fully digest and eliminate the meal before she strapped herself in. Her biggest fear was that Brittle might just happen to not be available. She had been disappointed twice in the past that way. She certainly did not blame Brittle for that. They both had lived. They both had commitments. They had no relationship and owed each other nothing. Briefly, Angela thought about perhaps cultivating a few more safe calls in her area so that if one were busy another might be called upon.

Waiting until almost noon Angela finally dialed the phone. Brittle answered on the second ring. Gratefully she was available. She did not fully understand, but she agreed when Angela instructed her not to come over at 5:00 PM but rather to call at that time, and if Angela did not answer the phone she would then come over.

Angela took a quick shower. She dried off. Naked she went into the dining room. The first thing she did was spread a good deal of KY Jelly on the butt plug of the bench. Then she cleaned her hands. She threaded the string through the two eye rings. To the one closest to the bench, she attached a three-pound weight and the key to the handcuffs. The weight pulled the string down so that the key hung right next to the handcuffs dangling in front of the bench. She then went to the other end of the room under the other eyehook. She first placed a large bucket on the floor directly under the eyehook. She attached a net to the string. She took the heavy frozen ice bottle out of the freezer and slid it into the net with the bottle upside down. The ice end of the string was now heavier than the weighted end with the key so it slid down and the key slid up to the ceiling. As the ice melted in the jug it would drip into the bucket but that would make that end of the device slowly less weighty and eventually the key would start slowly falling down to where she could reach it. If the tests proved correct it would take somewhere between three and four hours for the ice to melt enough for her to reach the key.

It was five hours before Brittle was scheduled to call her. She knelt naked on the dining room floor and closed her eyes. She commanded herself to stop being Angela and turn herself into the Ice Slave.

The ice slave opened her eyes and slowly rose. She walked over to the bench and looked at it. She reached up and pulled slightly on the key to make sure nothing was binding the string and the key would, indeed, fall as it was supposed to, then she let it go so that it was once again up by the ceiling. She sat slowly on the bench impaling her self as she did. First she buckled in her left ankle, and then she did her right ankle. With her legs now buckled fast to the chair, she reached for the seat belt and tightened herself down. She was almost completely bound now. She looked once up just to make sure the key was there. She slipped the steel cuff onto her left wrist and closed it. She did the same with her right wrist. She tried her bonds. They were firm. She would now be there, and only there until the ice melted and she could reach the key. Of course, if something bad happened, she would be there a little longer until Brittle got there.

The Ice Slave closed her eyes and felt her self slowly slip into a nice state of mind. Her breathing got easier. All of her duties and responsibilities magically lifted themselves off her shoulders. She could struggle as much as she wanted and she could not free herself. She was bound. She was attached to the piece of furniture. Her tender rectum would be the storage place for the big hard wooden dildo as it was no longer her choice. She could no longer choose to expel the piece of wood from her body. Her legs she could not close. She would sit there naked and opened-legged like a little whore. Closing her legs was no longer an option. She had cleverly removed that option from herself. She would now be an opened-legged little whore and there was nothing she could do about it. This removed any guilt from her for being an opened-legged little whore. She was not sitting up straight. Because of the way her hands were bound she had to slouch over a bit. She could not sit up straight. She briefly had a picture in her mind of her mother standing there, shouting “POSTURE” at her. The Ice Slave was no longer responsible for having perfect posture. Her bondage prevented it and she could not attain it no matter how she struggled. She would have bad posture until the ice melted. It was no longer her problem. She was now totally free to sit with bad posture. Because of the position, her hands were in she could reach absolutely nothing but her pussy. Nothing. Her sex was the only thing her hands could reach. Her fingers were free to touch her moist nether flesh whenever they dared. There were no priests or nuns in the room to tell her that masturbation was a sin. There were no co-workers to giggle at her if they caught her fingering her own twat. She had nothing to do at all for the next three or four hours except finger her twat. There would be no shame in keeping herself occupied for the time. The Ice Slave entered a totally relaxed state of mind. She had heard others on the BDSM chat room talk about being in space, or being in slave-space. She wondered if she were there. She knew the answer. Inwardly she smiled.

She opened her eyes. Briefly, though she had just started, she wondered how long she had been there. She looked around and noticed that she could not see a clock. She wondered if that were a total accident or if her subconscious had picked this place for the bondage bench because it would deprive her of a clock. She looked at the ice bottle. No ice had yet melted. The sides of the bottle appeared to be a bit sleeker as if moisture were now accumulating on it. She went back into her high-school physics class and remembered that air can hold a certain amount of water at a given temperature. Colder air can hold less than warm air so when the warm air of the room meets the cold side of the ice bottle the air would loose some of it’s heat into the bottle and would therefore be able to hold less water and it would be shed like dew on the side of the bottle. That meant, of course, that heat was in fact entering the bottle and melting the ice. She tried to force the science lesson from her mind. She closed her eyes and let her fingers work their first bit of magic on her pussy flesh. She knew her fingers would be quite busy for the next couple of hours. She smiled.

Later, with her fingers now still, resting themselves, and her eyes closed she slipped just a little out of her slave-space when she heard a tiny noise. She had been quite happy with the quiet. She lived in an apartment and it was a Saturday afternoon. She could not expect her neighbors to be completely quiet, but so far she had enjoyed almost total peace and quiet, and now some strange noise had disturbed her. For some reason, it did not frighten her but she did wish to identify the sound. She forced herself up out of her slave-space and opened her eyes. She tried to remember exactly what the sound had sounded like and realized that she did not remember the sound at all. She remembered being disturbed by a sound but could not define what the sound sounded like. She looked around at her surroundings and everything looked in place. She focused her eyes on the water bottle and was staring at it mesmerized as a single drop of water slipped out the neck of the bottle and fell through the air the short few inches to the bucket below and as the drop landed in the bucket it made a little ping. The Ice Slave realized that the ping of the water drop had been the noise that had disturbed her. Already it was starting. Her old friend’s ice was doing its work. She would now simply watch the drops fall until she was free. It would still be a long, long time, but it was beginning.

She closed her eyes and started her fingers working again. She forced a fantasy upon herself. In this particular version of the fantasy, her boss had placed her in this bondage position and the key was not falling to her as the ice melted, it was rather in his possession. In this fantasy, she would be his to do with as he wished until it would be his choice to release her. In this fantasy, bound as she was, she saw her boss look around the apartment until he found something suitable to stand upon. Whatever it was he carried it over and placed it on the floor between her opened legs. He then stood upon it bringing him to exactly the right height where he then grabbed two handfuls of her hair and shoved his cock in her mouth. He then, if only in this fantasy, fucked her face. When he was through he got down off the thing he was standing on but she noticed that he left the thing he was standing on right where it was on the floor between her legs. Perhaps he was not done standing on it for the day. In her fantasy, she looked down to the floor and saw that the thing her boss had stood upon was the footstool that she kept in the living room in front of her favorite chair. Her fantasy ended as she looked over into the living room and saw the footstool in front of her favorite chair. Silently she cursed the nice little footstool for spoiling the best fantasy she had conjured up that day.

Sometime later the shrill chirping of the phone in the kitchen startled her out of slave-space. She listened as the phone rang a second time and also heard the familiar recording of her voice as her answering machine answered the phone on the third ring. She looked quickly to the bottle of ice. It was almost full. She knew it was not time for Brittle to call. A telemarketer announced the amazing product he had for sale and left a number where he could be reached. Silence once again claimed the apartment. She looked around. To her left was the kitchen. The dining room was not separated from the kitchen except for a change in the color of the tiles on the floor. To her right was a low half-wall about three feet high that separated the dining room from the living room. She had installed eyehooks along the floor on each side of the low wall so she could bind herself naked, spread, and lewdly bent over the wall awaiting either a spanking or a fucking. It would not be her choice. It would be the choice of the fantasy man who had never actually been there to make the decision. Looking straight ahead of herself as she was sitting on the bench she saw the water dripping ice contraption. Beyond it was the small hall that led to her bathroom and bedroom. To the left in the small hall was her door to the outside world. She could not see the door from where she sat. If the ice thing didn’t work and she had to wait for Brittle she would not actually be able to see her until Brittle was fully three steps into the apartment. This did not worry about the Ice Slave. Rather it pleased her. Knowing for sure that it would never happen she still fantasized that Brittle would rather than releasing her force her to sign a slavery contract making her Brittle’s sex slave. It was not as good as fantasizing about belonging to a man like her boss, but for a long afternoon of free fantasy, it would do.

Her fingers were once again sore from straining and overuse so the Ice Slave let her fingers stop their ravishment of her tender cunt flesh. She slowly opened her eyes. She knew she was covered with sweat as she had made herself cum maybe six or seven times in the past hour, or what she expected must have been about an hour. She looked up and saw that the weight-bearing the handcuff key was a good two inches closer to her than it had been when she had started. She gazed over at the bottle of melting ice and noticed the bottle must have been about three-quarters full. She knew that the key would fall to her reach while there was still about a quart of ice in the gallon jug. Therefore she figured she was about a third of the way through her time. She wished it would slow down a bit. She wanted to savor this precious bit of bondage time. The tiny drips of the melting ice turned water was now a steady rhythmic cadence. It was not a fast pace, but she could now close her eyes and count heartbeats until the next drop hit the bucket and get it right within a single heartbeat.

She closed her eyes and decided to count one hundred drops. One, Two, Three, Four…

She once again looked up at the key. It was noticeably closer but still a bit above her head. In thirty or forty minutes the key would be eye level. It would be maddening to see it there just out of her reach. She hoped she would be able to resist the urge to touch it with her face. It would be really tempting. It would not make the ice melt faster but it would make the time waiting for the ice to melt seem to go by faster. She did not want though for the time to seem to go by faster. She wanted the time to go by as slowly as possible. She considered that when the key was as high as her face she might take the key in her mouth and keep it there not letting her hands have the key and extend her time on the bench until Brittle got there to release her. That would be cheating though so she knew she would not do that. The idea did tempt her though.

She heard a noise in the hall as if footsteps were walking the hall. She clearly heard them. They appeared to stop right in front of her door. She heard a loud hard rapping on the door, so loud it must have alerted every neighbor within a mile. She was about to scream something to send the intruder away and then she heard the unmistakable sound of Mrs. Clantsey across the hall opening her door and talking softly to the person. They must have been knocking on the door of the Clantsey’s instead of the Ice Slave’s door.

The butt plug was large and unforgiving. She had counted on it being uncomfortable but she had not counted on it actually causing her the steady pain that it had recently started doing. Flexing her knees and pressing up as hard as she could she was able to raise her body perhaps an inch and a half off the bench before the seat belt arrested her progress. She could not get anywhere near high enough to expel the dildo from her ass, but she could, briefly, take the pressure off her sore anus. Quickly though the pain would start building in her knees and thighs. She could not hold herself up in this awkward position straining against the belt for long, then she would slowly give in to the pain and let her self slide back down the inch and a half re-impaling herself firmly upon the hard wooden ass cock.

It became hard to fantasize. The ice had melted and dripped out of the bottle to such a degree that the key had now been lowered to her eye level. She could easily see it. It was perhaps six inches from the tip of her nose. It was actually hard to open her eyes and not focus on the key. It seemed darker in the apartment than it should have been. The Ice Slave estimated that it was two or two-thirty in the afternoon. She had, of course, drawn the shades on the windows, but they still let in a good deal of light. It was the middle of the afternoon. The apartment should have been flooded with natural light. Still, she could clearly see a shadow cast by the low living room wall towards her there in the dining room. She started to briefly panic. It should have been the middle of the afternoon but the shadow told her it must be almost sunset. At this time of year, the sun would set between 6:30 and 7:00 PM. That was significant. If it were true that late it meant that the ice was not melting fast enough and she had been on the bench twice as long as she thought she had been there. More than that though it meant Brittle was late. Did that mean that Brittle was not coming? For a terrorizing moment the Ice Slave slipped into being Angela and Angela then really started to worry, but just then she heard the low strong rumble of thunder. Less than a minute later Angela heard the unmistakable sound of rain pelting her building. It was simply darker outside because it was raining. Angela took a deep breath in through her nose and expelled it slowly through her mouth forcibly willing her heart to stop beating so fast. She calmed herself down, closed her eyes, and once again commanded the Ice Slave to make her appearance.

She once again opened her eyes. Her back was now starting to hurt from being in the same position for so long. She wished she could take a five-minute break and get off the bench, walk around, stretch, and then get back into the contraption, but that was quite impossible. The key had now been lowered to chest high on the bound girl. In the back of her mind, she always knew she would do what she was about to do but she had told herself not to think about it because she was way to mature to do it. The key was between her tits. Her nipples hardened on their own. Neither Angela nor the Ice Slave could control them. She thought back to the first time a boy had gotten his hand under her shirt and shoved her bra aside and felt her boobies as she referred to them back then. She had been a freshman in high school and he was a year older. They were in her parent’s living room watching TV. Her father was not yet home from work and her mother had just left for the grocery store. She thought they had been a bit too lax allowing her to have a male friend in the house alone. The boy’s hand had felt really nice and she wanted to let him go a good deal farther but somehow had said the right words to convince him to stop. Her nipples screamed out at her to stop the trip down memory lane and demanded that she give them some immediate attention. The three-pound weight was tied to the string, and the key was tied to the three-pound weight, and it was currently hanging from the ceiling right between her aching nipples. She sighed and gave in to their demands. She twisted her body to the right so that her left nipple scraped against the key. The key jiggled away but gravity brought it right back where it should have hung. She twisted her body to the left, which allowed her right nipple to scrape the key. “More” her nipples kept shouting. Eventually, she found the right rhythm of rocking her body back and forth to make the key bounce from one nipple to the other and back again. Vaguely, she wondered what would happen if this motion she was making, would knock the key off of the string. “Shut Up!” her nipples screamed at her.

“Naked whore slut naughty slave-tittie ping-pong”, as she called the little game lasted only about five minutes because the ice kept melting and soon the key was to low for her to reach bound as she was. Her nipples said a silent thank-you to the Ice Slave for their brief but necessary attention in this bondage session.

She closed her eyes and forced herself to imagine she was sitting much as she was on the bench but facing the other way with her back and ass exposed to the space of the dining room rather than the front of her. In this fantasy, there was no key or bucket of ice hanging in the way and someone was using a nice heavy leather flogger on her. She had a small collection of bondage gear that she had purchased from the Internet. She would occasionally sit on either the low wall or sometimes the footstool and hold the flogger in her hand and reach over her self and flog her back with the flogger. It felt good when she did it but so far she was the only person who had ever flogged her. She had asked Brittle to do it once but the girl had refused. She dreamt now that some man was behind her whip in hand wailing on her exposed flesh. She could almost feel the rhythm of the leather striking her. She desperately wanted to have that experience in real life.

The next time she opened her eyes the key had slipped down to belly level. If her math and testing proved accurate she had about thirty more minutes of bondage. Soon, almost too soon, she would slip out of the Ice Slave persona and Angela would take over and she would calmly enjoy the last few minutes of captivity. Then she would unlock the cuffs and free herself. She desperately wanted just a few more precious minutes as the Ice Slave in bondage, but Angela was almost to the surface now.

She clearly heard voices and footsteps out in the hall of the apartment building and wondered who was visiting her neighbor now. Then, clearly, she heard a key inserted in the lock on her own door. Then, in a real dramatic moment where her heart practically leaped from her chest she heard the key turned and the lock opened. Irrationally telling her self that if she kept quiet maybe they wouldn’t find her. She stared at the small entryway as she heard her own door unmistakably open. She immediately calmed down as she heard Brittle’s voice say “In here Master” but the panic quickly reasserted itself as Brittle came tumbling into the apartment as if she had been shoved in by someone very strong.

“Kneel Slave,” someone said. It was a familiar male voice but Angela could not immediately place it.

Brittle answered “Yes Master” and fell to her knees. “I am sorry Angela” she screamed when she turned her head towards the bound woman.

The door closed and she heard the lock turn. The man stepped into the room. Her boss took a good long look at his naked bound open-legged whore of a co-worker. “Hello little one,” he said in a nice calm every-day voice as if he were walking into a grand social event, “It is so nice of you to invite us to your little party.”

There was a big grin on his face. He looked at the contraption Angela had built and quickly understood its mechanics. Angela strained her fingers trying to grab the key. It was still a maddening two inches from her reach. Her boss calmly walked into the kitchen area and opened first one drawer and then a second finding a small sharp kitchen knife.

He walked over to where he could stand in front of Angela and reached down and took the string with the weight and key in his hand. “Ingenious,” he said. “I had no idea you were this well versed in the principles of engineering.”

With the knife, he cut the string and when he did the net and container of melting ice fell into the bucket on the floor with a bit of a splash. He addressed the kneeling Brittle “Go to the bathroom, get a towel, wipe up the spillage, empty the water into the kitchen sink, and put that stuff away, slave.”

“Yes Master,” were her only words as she quickly did his bidding.

So far Angela had not said a word since the two had entered her apartment and found her in such a vulnerable state. She could not think of a single word or phrase that would have, at the time, any significance, so she kept her mouth shut.

Her boss stood directly in front of her and for several minutes made no sound and also did absolutely nothing to mask the fact that he was taking a good long look at her, every inch of her.

Done, at least temporarily, with the lewd visual examination he began to speak. He told Angela that he had met Brittle in the BDSM chat room about two weeks ago and they had been seeing each other ever since. Brittle had talked about the Ice Slave and how they acted as safe-calls for each other. When she had called earlier that day he had been at Brittle’s house and had decided to accompany her here to meet the Ice Slave earlier than they were supposed to arrive. Until he had walked into the room he had not known that the Ice Slave was, in fact, his assistant Angela, but he made it clear that he was not disappointed in the least. He told her that things were going to change in her life. He was going to enslave her that day and he was going to keep her as a pet and sex slave. She would continue to work for him so that he could keep an eye on her all the time. In fact, he was also going to hire Brittle so that he could keep both of his slaves around 24×7.

As he was talking he had been doing two things. He had been walking around the apartment looking at things, and he had been removing his own clothing. Naked and erect he stood directly in front of the bench where the Ice Slave could not help but see him. He turned and spoke to his slave Brittle who was by then finished putting the things away.

“Go to the living room slave, fetch the footstool, place it on the floor right here in front of this bench” he commanded.

“Yes Master” she chimed as she hurried to obey.

The English Daddy. Part 4

Posted on 04/11/2019 - 05/11/2019 by pseudonymous

To part 1, part 2, part 3

Find your little near ?
Alan stood behind Felicia. He felt sick, confused and disgusted – yet turned on. His heart pounded, was he really going to do this? He looked at her small, creamy pale bottom – slightly elevated off of the bed, her legs slightly apart, pussy lips ever so slightly separated and the inviting rose pink of her tiny little asshole. What choice did he have?

He took a step closer and let his hand wander to his dick again, after stopping so suddenly before it felt good to touch. He stroked slowly, admiring the sight before him, thinking…

Slowly he raised his right hand above her ass cheek. It had been a long time since he had laid his hands on a woman in any other way than the tender caress that a husband gives to his wife after twenty years…. But before, when he was younger, he had enjoyed being the one to administer punishments very much. He had spanked a number of previous girlfriends, even used a cane on one. He looked at Felicia’s little pert bottom beneath him, the thought crossed his mind that if he allowed himself to spank once, he may never stop. The contempt her felt towards her was unsettling…. He paused. She moved, wriggled her ass….

“Please fuck me, Daddy….”

“Shut up.” The aggression in his voice shocked even him, but it spurred him on…

The first spank made Felicia’s whole body buck forwards and she cried out.

“Shut the fuck up!”

He spanked again and her moan was more muffled this time; he pictured her from the front, biting her lip, eyes closed. Another spank, then another, and another. He moved his free hand up to her pussy and gasped at how wet she had become… more spanking, four? Seven? Twelve? He lost count. Her little ass was turning nicely pink and she was whimpering now.

“Are you still sure it’s a good idea to bribe me you, little whore?”

“You don’t scare me, you dirty old man….”

Her words took him aback; she knew what buttons to push. He pushed her, causing her to fall sideways and she rolled over onto her back, her eyes gleaming, biting her lip…

“What did you just say?”

“I said you don’t scare me, you dirty pathetic old man….”

“Do you want me to hate you? Hmm?”

“Yes.” She smiled at him, “I want you to hate me, I want you to fuck me like you hate me, I want you to hate how much you fucking need me, crave me… I want you to fuck me whilst knowing what a pathetic, dirty old man you really are.”

“You’re sick…”

Her smile widened. “But so are you, Daddy, you’re about to fuck a girl younger than your daughter.”

“You leave Holly out of this!”

“Oh please….” Felicia shuffled forward and sat on the edge of the bed, lowering her head towards Alan’s dick… she held her lips tantalizingly close, the breath of her voice causing him to grow harder “…I was the one that made her wet the other night Daddy when we were dancing…”

She went to take him in her mouth, but he grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her backward. He pushed her back on the bed and crawled over her. Their faces were mere millimeters apart….

“My daughter is not a lesbian!” He growled

Felicia laughed, as best she could with his face so close to hers…. “No Daddy, perhaps not, but she did enjoy it when I kissed her.”

He hadn’t let go of her hair and he pulled again, causing her to cry out. Roughly he reached down and forced two fingers into her sopping wet little pussy.

“You get off on this, huh? Who’s next? My wife… do you plan to fuck her too?”

“Oh I bet you’d love that you dirty little fuck, watching as I screw your wife better than you ever could…”

Anger boiled up inside of him, more anger than he knew what to do with. “Get on your front. I don’t want to see your face….”

She did as he ordered and raised her ass slightly; he pushed into her with one movement, causing them both to cry out. She was so wet, and yet so beautifully tight. He was reminded of the first few years with Laura, the slight resistance. Laura… he tried to block her from his mind, and he pushed deeper, harder, faster. Felicia felt tiny beneath him, but he didn’t care… he had gone past the point of caring if he hurt her, if she was enjoying it. His cock felt wonderful inside of her, he grabbed hold of her hair, yanking her head back.

“Now, what did you call me?”

“A pathetic…. Old man….” She managed to get out, between gasps. Her words only served to spur him on more. She felt it, felt the urgency with which he pushed into her…. “You’re a dirty old man Daddy….”

He let go of her hair and moved his hand to her tiny waist, feeling her smooth skin beneath his palms.

“You bitch….” She moaned louder upon hearing his words…. “You fucking…. Little bitch…”

He could feel his orgasm building as she pushed back against his dick. He closed his eyes and tried to focus more on the sensations rather than the fact he was fucking an 18-year-old slut on his wife’s bed, but he couldn’t… and he was even more disgusted with the fact that despite his ability to shut off his orgasm was almost upon him.

“Cum in my little pussy Daddy….” Her voice was breathless, detached from him…

His whole body shuddered as he moaned in pleasure, he felt his cum pumping through his veins, spilling out into her tight little cunt. Waves of pleasure coursed through him…. Stronger than anything he had felt for years. She moaned, feeling him fill her…

“Mmmm….. Daddy….”

He stopped pushing, his breathing ragged and his dick spent. Slowly he pulled out of her, watching her turn around on the bed and move her right hand to her swollen little pussy. He was mesmerized as she took some of his cum onto her fingers and then licked them clean….

She had him right where she wanted him.

Alan left the room, and Felicia, without a word. He closed the en-suite door behind him and stared at his reflection in the mirror…. What on earth had he done?

He managed to avoid her all afternoon, for a long while he stayed upstairs. He showered, changed the sheets, paced…. He considered ringing the contact from the school and even dialed the number twice, but her threats echoed in his ear and he chickened out. In a sudden flurry of realization he emptied the wash basket to search for Holly’s cum-soaked panties, but only found the towel they had been wrapped in. He showered again, the heat of the day coupled with the thoughts of his actions making him panic and sweat. He could still smell her everywhere, still hear her voice. It was unbearable.

Laura and Holly returned at about 4 pm. Alan had only ventured down for a drink in the meantime and had not seen Felicia at all since he had left her naked on his marital bed that morning. He knew all day that she was around though – he heard her music through the walls, listened to her footsteps on the stairs, the clink of crockery and glass as she helped herself to some lunch.

The knot in his stomach had prevented him from wanting food but he knew he had to face them all at some point. He hovered at the top of the stairs before venturing down into the kitchen, he knew she was down there somewhere but he didn’t know where. He hoped – for the first time since he was a boy he prayed – she had kept to her promise and had not said a word to his wife about what he had done.

She was in there… he saw her as soon as he pushed the door open, talking to his daughter. The words rang in his ears of how they had both kissed, and so did the images. The thought fleeted across his mind of the two of them in a club or sat in a booth in a bar, their bodies pressed together, lips touching….

He looked away, he had to, his heart was racing.

“Hello, Darling….” Laura breezed past him, her lips placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Productive day?”

He glanced at her, did she know? Was she bluffing? “Um…. Yes, yeah I got a lot done.” He lied. Trying not to focus on the girls sat at the table.

She was talking, she was talking about their day, their dinner, what they were doing at the weekend, but he couldn’t focus. All he could see what fleeting images of this morning, all he could concentrate on was his hardening dick.

Dinner passed in a blur… the food was tasteless to Alan and he had to force each mouthful down, past the lump in his throat. Felicia was sat opposite him and every now and then she would catch his eye – whether deliberate or not he didn’t know, but it was obvious to him that she was enjoying his discomfort greatly. He tried not to look at her, he tried to look in any direction but straight ahead to where she was sitting, but he was noticing little things all the time. The way her little fingers gripped her glass of water as she paused before drinking, the way her lips closed around her fork, the gentle smile when she was listening to Holly or Laura. He wondered a few times throughout the meal whether he was actually going mad if he had imagined the whole thing…. Yes, she was a tease, that looks, the slight smirk, they were there but had he really fucked her that morning? Perhaps he had dreamt it all, his fantasies become reality in his subconscious mind. He willed it to be the case, but deep down he knew it wasn’t….

After dinner Alan disappeared back upstairs quickly, he couldn’t risk being alone with Felicia in the kitchen again. He closed the study door and breathed a sigh of relief…. His extremities felt tingly, his breathing has been too fast, too shallow to perform the correct function within his body. He sat down at his computer and tried to focus… he had done so little work today and deadlines were looming. But the words blurred on the screen and his thoughts turned back to Felicia….

After about half an hour he heard Laura started to run a bath and tried to build a mental image of that instead – part of him was tempted to go in and join her, but he hated the fact that he would only be doing it to appease his own guilt, and he wasn’t sure he could look her in the face. He took a deep breath and stared at the screen but his head was beginning to ache and he was so tired… He heard soft footsteps on the stairs and his breathing actually stopped. Silence. Which girl was it? He hoped it was Holly coming upstairs for something, but the handle turned on the study door and his heart pounded, he looked up hoping to see his own daughter but instead came face to face with Felicia. She stepped into the room confidently and without a word, closing the door silently behind her.

“Get out Felicia.” Alan’s voiced surprised him with its steadiness.

“Aww… don’t be like that Daddy….”

He turned back to his computer screen. “Get. Out.”

“I’m not doing anything wrong I just came up to see if you would like a drink….”

He took a deep breath. “If I wanted a drink, Felicia, I would go into my own kitchen and I would make myself a drink. Now get out!” His voice was losing composure…

“But you’ve been hiding in here all day Daddy; I’m worried about you….”

“You’re worried about me?” Alan lurched forward, rage boiling up inside of him. “If you were worried about me you would fuck off Felicia! You’d have not bribed me into fucking you; you would leave me and my family alone and piss off out of my house!”

“Shhh Daddy, Mummy is only next door….” She looked so calm, so manipulating….

He turned away; sweat prickling at the back of his neck. “Are you trying to make me angry?” His voice was calmer, barely above a whisper now.

“No Daddy…”

“Really?!” He turned his head to look at her

She smiled…. “Well, maybe a little bit….”

It was all a blur… but he heard his words leave him, he saw her kneel and he gripped her head as she took his cock greedily into her little mouth.

For the first few wet and clumsy strokes he knew he should stop, he knew that one time could be classed as a stupid, misguided and potentially marriage damaging mistake, but a second, where he had demanded that she get on her fucking knees… a second was making it into something more dangerous.

He gripped her head tightly, causing her movements to be measured and small. His entire length was in her little mouth, pushing at the back of her throat, causing those little chocking, gurgling noises that he loved so much but that he knew would draw attention….

“Shut the fuck up slut….” He hissed He felt her tense and she looked up as best she could those eyes… “You want to be treated like a whore then fucking act like one. Touch your cunt.” He saw her right hand move whilst she continued to suck, her pace never changing. He didn’t have a wonderful view of what her little fingers were doing below the waistband of her skirt but after the display, she put on for him earlier he could well imagine…. He wanted to groan, he wanted to speak more, and he wanted his wife to not be only feet away in the room next door. He gripped tighter on her hair, pulled her in closer, felt his cock ram the back of her throat. The pressure was building and he was cumming, even if he wanted to stop there was no way on earth he could now… he felt himself buck forward as he forced his load down into her throat, feeling her muscles contract as she swallowed it down like the slut she was. She took it all, licking him clean as he pulled slowly away from her, the sensitivity becoming too much to bear.

He stepped back, his breaths deep and ragged, he looked at her still kneeling, watching him expectantly.

“Get the fuck out.”

She did so, without question.

To part 5

The English Daddy. Part 5

Posted on 05/11/2019 by pseudonymous

To part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

Alan didn’t know when it happened… Whether it was whilst he was forcing her head onto his cock, whether it was at some point during the night or if, in fact, it was one of those many, guilt-ridden, minutes in-between… but at some point, his anger got the better of him.

Find your little near ?
He had never been an angry a man, he had spent his life keeping his emotions in check – a trait he took pride in. He was the person people came to for advice, the calm beacon in a raging sea. But she had done it… and he knew there was no going back.

The house was calm the following morning, a stark contrast to how Alan felt inside. He kept his cool though… throughout breakfast and the seemingly inane conversations that took place around him. He scanned the articles in the newspaper – not really reading any of it, but determined not to catch Felicia’s eye. In fact, he was so quiet, that for the first time – in seemingly an entire age – the three women in his kitchen stopped talking and listened the moment he opened his mouth…

“I was thinking of going to the tank museum today.”

He looked up to gauge the reaction… he knew the first protest would come from Holly…

“Daaaad! No… why? It’s so boring!”

“Its an integral part of our past young lady. I think it would be good to show Felicia a bit of British history…”

This time he glanced across the table at her, she was chewing slowly on a piece of toast, crumbs on her forefinger and thumb, thinking, had she cottoned on already?

“But we’ve been like a gazillion times Dad!” Holly moaned… overly dramatically, he couldn’t have wished for a better reaction if he had given her a script!

“Well, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to Holly, but I think it would be an interesting day out for Felicia.”

“Your father is right Holly, this trip shouldn’t all be about sunbathing and seeing boys. What do you think Felicia?”

Alan’s stomach churned at his wife’s voice, the voice of reason. If only she knew…

“Well… is it really boring?”

“I actually found it quite interesting…” Laura was on his side, she was fighting his corner. Guilt overwhelmed Alan, but he tried to override it.

Felicia looked directly at him. He tried to keep his cool, tried not to let his guard slip… “I think you would enjoy it…”

“Ok..” She nodded slowly, finishing her toast. “I’m happy to go…”

“The tank museum?!”

Twenty minutes later and they were sat side by side in Alan’s car, having left a calm Laura and a relieved Holly at home…

“It worked didn’t it?”

“I guess, but please don’t tell me we are actually going to look at a load of boring old tanks, Daddy…” Felicia placed her hand on Alan’s knee as he drove, his cock was already hard at the thought of having her to himself for the day…

“Of course, you’ll need to see some. But I think we can probably make a detour…”

“Ooooh!” She removed her hand from his knee and clapped her hands together with glee… “I’m excited, Daddy!”

Alan simply smiled as he focused on the road ahead if only she knew.

Nearly an hour later they were in a town forty miles away from home and five miles from the museum… the distance was important to Alan, he needed to not be recognized, by anyone. He looked at her reflection in the shop window, she did look small in comparison to him… and if she kept her mouth shut, she could very well be his daughter…

“I don’t like these clothes Daddy, can we go somewhere else?”

“No.” His voice was calm. “Your new outfit for the tank museum comes from here.”

“But they are all so…” Her reflection scrunched up its nose…

“Slutty? I know sweetheart…” He lowered his head to her ear… “But I told you last night, if you will insist on acting like a slut, you shall be treated like one. Now, let’s go inside so that Daddy can choose his slutty little girl an outfit, shall we?”

He didn’t wait for a response, he took her hand and marched her inside the store – the dim light contrast from the glare of the sun outside. The clothes really were very slutty… he knew that if he saw Holly in any of the clothes displayed on the cheap plastic mannequins then he would demand that she changed into something more respectable immediately, but he knew he never would, Holly was a good girl…

He had noticed that Felicia had gone uncharacteristically quiet whilst they browsed the store, but he didn’t let it deter him. She wasn’t choosing clothes, so he picked out an outfit for her and demanded she go and try it on. Waiting outside the changing rooms he checked the time – 10.26… his cock stirred in his trousers at the thought of the hours ahead.

“It looks awful…” Felicia’s voice stirred him out of his thoughts, she thrust the chosen clothes into his hands and frowned.

“Good….”

And without another word, he went up to the counter and paid.

On the way back to the car, Alan took Felicia into a chemist and bought her new makeup. He hadn’t seen the outfit on her little body yet, but he was forming quite a good picture in his mind. There was a small, smug kind of satisfaction that he took from her quietness, she lagged behind as they walked and her hand no longer slipped into his. He was pissing her off, and his plan was working.

He unlocked the car and looked across the roof as Felicia went to open her passenger door…

“What do you think you are doing?”

She looked up, squinting in the sunlight. “Getting in the car…”

“Oh no… you get changed first, young lady.”

He watched her expression change, her small grey eyes flicked around the car park. It was busy, busier than Alan had anticipated.

“There are public toilets behind you.” He stated calmly “Go and get changed, put your make-up on and come back to the car. I’ll be waiting.”

She frowned as she slammed her door, he was going to enjoy this.

Ten minutes passed, Alan sat in the cool of his air-conditioned car, shoppers passed by – some leisurely, lovers with fingers intertwined – others rushing, the heat getting to them, children screaming out of frustration, mothers wanting to scream themselves. But all the while he kept his eyes on the little digital clock of his dash, she was taking her time…. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and changed the radio station. His cock was hard when he sent her off to get changed and now it was softening again, he wanted her back. She was right, he was starting to crave her…

And then there she was. He turned his head for the seemingly billionth time to glace in the direction of the public toilets and she was there… walking towards him. A denim skirt so short that it was almost obscene, a strappy vest top, hair in pigtails and what looked like half of a make-up counter on her face. Her legs looked amazing, long, slender and smooth.. she wore little flat shoes, a detail he hadn’t considered, but he didn’t care. She was his toy for the day, and he was going to have a lot of fun.

“You look like a common little slut.” He said as she got into the car beside him. He saw her little body stiffen, but she turned to face him…

“Well Daddy, it is what you wanted…” She had got some of her bites back in the last ten minutes and Alan was slightly relieved, he liked to play, not to bully.

He chuckled to himself and started the car.

“Well, its just as well its a hot day sweetheart, we wouldn’t want you getting cold now.”

“What would you care?” She spat back, staring out of the passenger window.

They were back on the main road now, nearing 60mph… Alan reached across and grabbed a fistful of her hair, taking her by surprise. “I don’t”

He let go, pushing her head slightly, causing her hand to shoot up to where the pain was.

“You see Felicia, I don’t take kindly to being teased, bribed, threatened… all in my own home, all under my roof…”

“You took kindly to fucking me though, didn’t you? You dirty old pervert…”

Alan laughed, “You really think talking to me like that is going to help you today? Take your knickers off.”

She didn’t move, just stared straight ahead.

“Take your knickers off, or I will stop this car and rip them off. Do it, slut.”

She moved slowly, begrudgingly, and slipped the thin silky material off over her knees. Alan held out his hand and she placed them in his palm, he threw them out of the window.

“Good, now your bare little cunt is exposed. What with the length of your skirt… I don’t think you should do any bending over today sweetheart…”

“Take me home Daddy, please?” For the first time, Alan could sense real worry in her voice “I promise I won’t tease you any more, please just let me put my normal clothes back on…”

“You really think I’m going to believe that? After everything you have done over the past few days?”

“I mean it Daddy! Please!”

“No. You can’t act the way you have an expect to get away with it.”

Alan steered the car into the entrance to the tank museum, his heart was racing as they pulled into a vacant space at the edge of the car park. Was he going too far? For the first time since they had left home, doubt started to creep in… He glanced across as her sat in the passenger seat. She did look small, sat there dressed as a slut, vulnerable…

“Are you getting a good eyeful Daddy?” she shifted in her seat, her tone unfriendly and with the familiar bite, the same tone as when she sat next to him on his bed and bribed him, she wanted him to be angry, she had said so herself… It reignited the dwindling ember of anger that sat within his stomach and he leaned in close to her, whispering in her ear…

“I wouldn’t normally touch a dirty little whore like you with a bargepole.” He forced his hand between her thighs, making her gasp “But seeing as you’ve been acting like such a desperate, dirty, little slut… you really have left me no choice.”

He pulled his fingers away, wet with her juices and immediately forced them into her mouth.

“It seems being treated as a worthless piece of meat turns you on more than I anticipated…”

She locked eyes with him as she licked his fingers clean. He wanted her, then and there. He wished he had driven them somewhere more secluded, wished he had booked a hotel for an afternoon, wished there weren’t so many people milling about – seemingly everywhere. The next few hours where going to be a test to his stamina as much as they would be a punishment to her… but he had to remain in control. She wasn’t going to get the upper hand… not again.

The English Daddy. Part 3

Posted on 03/11/2019 - 04/11/2019 by pseudonymous

To part 2

The house was silent after they had gone. Alan lay in the relative safety of his bed and listened for any sounds of stirring… there were none. Perhaps she was still asleep; perhaps he could dress and get out of the house before she woke. Yes! That’s what he would do; he would go out somewhere – anywhere, so long as it was away from here, and her.

Find your little near ?
Hurriedly he washed in the en-suite. He could have done with a shower, but he was in too much of a hurry to care. Quietly he took clothes from the dresser and wardrobe and dressed quicker than he had done in a long while.

He brushed his teeth and grabbed his keys and wallet from the side… he felt confident that this was the right thing to do. He opened his bedroom door and stepped out onto the landing, still nothing… Holly’s bedroom door was shut and he breathed a sigh of relief as he started to descend the stairs. He should have carried on and got out of the front door when he heard the bedroom door click open, he shouldn’t have stopped and he definitely shouldn’t have turned around upon hearing her voice…

“Daddy?”

His heart sank. “Yes, Felicia?” She was stood at the top of the stairs, her legs bare, an oversized t-shirt draped over her small frame.

“Where are you going?”

“Out! I’m going out Felicia, away from you!”

Slowly she walked down the stairs towards him, he felt trapped, drawn to her and yet wanting to escape at the same time….

“That’s not very nice Daddy…”

“Nice? That’s rich, coming from you!’

“I don’t understand what that means…”

“No, you don’t… you don’t understand anything, because you are a silly little girl….”

“Daddy…” She reached her arm up to touch his chest; he grabbed it, roughly… probably rougher than he should have done, but this morning she didn’t flinch so easily.

“And stop calling me Daddy!”

“But you like it when I call you Daddy….”

“No, I don’t. I hate it.”

“Why?”

“Because I am not your Daddy, I am nothing to do with you. You are just an irritating, manipulative little girl who is sleeping under my roof.”

Felicia glanced at his hand, large around her small wrist. “You’re hurting me….”

“Yeah?” He squeezed tighter…

“Daddy, please….” She winced and something within him snapped. Without another thought, he forced his free hand between her legs, just as he suspected she was naked underneath the t-shirt and a moan escaped his own lips as he found her wet…

“Get back into bed. Now.”

He let go of her wrist and instantly she was back in his daughter’s bedroom.
Blind with lust, he followed.

She had done as instructed and was back in her bed, the covers pulled up tight to her chin…. He snatched them away.

“Take the t-shirt off.”

She looked at him, unsure.

“What? You thought it was going to be romantic? That I was going to be gentle with you? Take it off.”

Silently she slipped the t-shirt off over her head and dropped it down the side of the bed. Her breasts were perfect… small, but so round and firm, her little dark nipples erect. His eyes explored her young body hungrily, her flawless smooth skin, the little tuft of dark hair between her legs.

“How many boys have fucked you?”

“Two Daddy.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

She nodded, bringing her knees up to her chest.

“Legs down. No hiding.”

Slowly she brought them down again and he sat on the bed adjacent with her knees.

“Were they rough with you?”

She shook her head, “No, they were just boys Daddy.”

“Open your legs.”

She did as she was told. Alan gently traced a finger up the outside of her outer lips; she was warm, slightly wet. He pushed gently, feeling the silkiness of the delights inside. His heart rate quickened at the thought of how tight she would be around him, how pretty her little pussy was… it was more beautiful than he had even imagined throughout his sleepless nights and he wanted to do everything he had fantasized about. But he had all day, he took a deep breath and decided to bide his time.

“Do you like Daddy touching you?”

Felicia nodded.

“Have you thought about Daddy when you’ve touched yourself?”

“Yes.”

“When was the last time?”

“Last night, in the shower….”

“That’s a very naughty thing to do Felicia.” His voice was hoarse, quiet…

“I’m sorry Daddy.”

He reached up and took a hold of her right arm, gentler now than before, and guided it down to her wet little pussy. “Show me.”

Her eyes widened… “I’ve never…”

“Touched yourself in front of someone before?”

She shook her head…

“No, but you have been acting like a little slut for the past four days… now it’s time for you to feel uncomfortable. Do it.”

Reluctantly at first, Felicia took her index and second finger of her right hand and gently pushed them between the top of her pussy lips. A small, quiet moan escaped her lips as she instantly found her clit and slowly she started to rub in tiny, firm circles.

Alan watched as she closed her eyes and tipped her head back onto the pillow, he wanted her so much. But he had to let her know who was in control… it had been a long time since he had brought his dominant side out to play and he was going to relish it today.

“Eyes open. Look at your Daddy whilst you play with your pretty little pussy….”

Obediently she again did as she was told, the firm circles on her clit becoming slightly quicker.

“Good girl…”

Felicia bit her bottom lip as she tried to stifle a moan….

Alan pushed his finger inside of her without warning, his suspicions were right, she was tight… incredibly so.

“There’s no-one else here Felicia, don’t be shy.”

Her next moan was louder, and the following louder and more intense still.

Alan longed to undo his trousers… even just to slip his hand inside and touch himself whilst she played, but that would have put them on a level playing field and he didn’t want that. Not yet.

“How many times have you cum whilst you’ve been under my roof Felicia?” He gently fucked her with his finger as he spoke….

“Five Daddy…”

“Five? That’s quite a lot, even for a little slut like you….”

“I’m sorry…” Her voice was barely audible, breathy and uneven…

“Would you like to make it up to me?”

Felicia nodded, quickly. Almost too quickly, too eagerly…

“Then cum for Daddy, cum nice and loud and hard… show him what a little slut you can be….”

Felicia didn’t utter another word upon receiving her instruction, her fingers quickened and Alan pushed deeper, feeling her grow around his finger. He brought it out quicker, pushed in further and she moaned again… and again, her orgasm building. She arched her back, tipping her head back on the pillow, her left hand found her breast and she pinched her nipple…. A beautifully arousing sight for Alan who by this point felt he could cum at the slightest touch, and then he felt her tighten. Her moans almost stopped as her little pussy contracted around his finger…. And then a loud moan, the most beautiful of all. She was so wet… he held his finger still as she fucked it of her own accord, her moans slowly turning to little whimpers as her orgasm started to subside.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him…. “Was that OK Daddy?”

He brought his finger out of her little pussy and gently pushed it between her lips, marveling at how eagerly she licked him clean.

“That, little girl, was just the beginning.”

“Sit up.”

Felicia obediently did as instructed and again Alan was surprised at how quickly she had turned from a manipulative little bitch into a girl that could be so easily controlled and manipulated herself. He kept his eyes on her as he undid his belt and removed first his trousers and then his boxers…. Her eyes didn’t leave his swollen cock.

“Do you like Daddy’s cock little one?”

Felicia nodded. Alan knew he was of a good size; he had never had any problem pleasuring his wife – or others that he had encountered in the days before his marriage. But he was getting painfully hard; he couldn’t remember being this hard in a long time…

“Ask Daddy if you may suck his cock.”

Felicia looked up those beautiful all-knowing eyes. She was being obedient, but they still had that spark, Alan brought his hand to his shaft and stroked, slowly, rhythmically….

“Ask Felicia, this is what you wanted….”

“Please Daddy…. Please let me suck your wonderful, big cock…” She smiled as she spoke, accentuating her words….

“Kneel. On the floor.”

Felicia hopped off the bed and swiftly tucked her legs underneath her as she knelt between the two single beds, Alan turned around, still stroking the length of his shaft. She looked up at him and smiled as he placed the tip of his cock between her open lips….

“Have you dreamt about sucking Daddy’s cock?”

Felicia nodded.

“Has it made you wet?”

She nodded again, more eagerly this time. Alan was trying to be strong, but the need was too much. He moaned as he allowed her to move her lips further down his swollen shaft. He brought himself out and then pushed forward again, further in. He heard a slight moan from Felicia as his cock hit the back of her throat, but the sensations coursing through his body were too strong for him to pay any attention to her. He placed a hand on both sides of her little head and moaned as he began to fuck faster and deeper still. She was good… he became more aware of her slight moans, the quiet slurping of her saliva as he moved his shaft in and out of her greedy little mouth…

“Sit back….” His voice came out hoarser than he expected as he withdrew from her mouth and watched her shuffle back so that she was leaning against the side of his daughter’s bed. Alan stroked his dick firmly as she watched, his hand slid freely over skin made wet by her mouth.

“Are you going to make Daddy cum like a good little girl?”

Felicia nodded, biting her lip, watching his hand. He took a step forward and plunged into her awaiting mouth again. Her lips felt so good around him, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer… He pushed further this time, the movement made easier by her slightly tilted head; he made her gag and brought instant relief by pulling back before doing it again. He leaned forward, placing a hand on the opposite wall so that he could gag her pretty little mouth with more ease. His fingers touched something on the wall as he forced his cock into her waiting mouth… he tried to ignore it but he glanced up. He regretted it instantly as his daughter’s smiling face in a photograph smiled back at him… Holly…

He lost his rhythm, his eyes fixed on that of his daughter, his beautiful innocent daughter whose bed he was leaning over as he fucked the mouth of her 18-year-old friend. Realization dawned… it hit him like a cold, hard stone in the gut. What the fuck was he doing? He pulled out of Felicia’s mouth and wordlessly grabbed his clothes from her bed….

“Daddy?” Felicia’s voice behind him was small and questioning as he left the room.

“This was a mistake, Felicia… a stupid, fucking, mistake.” Alan’s voice wavered, a lump forming in the back of his throat as he realized what he had done…

“But Daddy, I wanted to make you cum!”

Alan turned when he got to his bedroom door. “Get dressed. I’m phoning the school.”

“No Daddy, please!”

He closed the door behind him and sat on his unmade bed, his dick hanging semi-soft between his legs. He glanced up as Felicia opened his bedroom door and stood in the doorway, her little hand on the handle, watching him…

“Get out.” His voice was quiet, but he was angry. Moreso at himself for being so weak, but still he found it hard to look at her.

“I wanted to be a good girl for you though Daddy.”

“Shut up!” She flinched slightly as he sprung up off of the bed. “I am not your fucking Daddy – and if I was then I would be highly ashamed to have raised such a disgusting little whore of a daughter as you!”

Her eyes widened as his words hung in the room. For a moment he thought she might begin to cry and he wished he could take his words back, take the whole morning back, but she simply swallowed and looked at him straight.

“You want to fuck me, Daddy.” Her voice was calm, quiet… confident.

“I want you to leave. Do you even realize the damage that you are causing?”

“And do you realize that I could very easily tell Mummy what you did this morning? Then I would really cause some damage….”

Alan laughed, more out of desperation that humor, he sat down on the bed and cradled his head in his hands. He felt pressure next to him as Felicia sat mere inches away.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because it’s what you want Daddy ….”

“It’s not what I want; I just want you to go. I don’t want you here, in my house…”

“You wanted to cum in my panties and in my mouth, you watched me cum….”

“I was stupid Felicia, foolish and stupid, this will wreck my marriage!”

“Showing Mummy Holly’s panties will wreck you marriage Alan…”

Alan looked up; she stared back at him calmly. “You wouldn’t?”

“Wouldn’t I?”

Alan’s mind raced, his thoughts jumbled. He started at the floor, away from that look, that calmness as if she had been planning it all along. “You little bitch….”

“Be my Daddy Alan and I won’t tell her….”

“You aren’t being serious?”

“Of course I am. You tell me I’m a little whore of a daughter so fuck me like one….”

“Is that all you think about, all you want… cock? For me to fuck you?”

“Oh no Daddy…” Felicia leaned in even closer to him, her light breath making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. “I want to control you; I want to make you scared… I want you to have to fuck me because you have no fucking choice….”

He turned his head and looked straight at her, her eyes smiling at the prospect, her lips gently curling at the sides in that mischievous grin that he hated so much. His voice sounded alien to him, calmer than the anger and disgust that was coursing through his entire body, he felt he had little control as the words left his mouth and hit the air with force…

“Get on all fours. Now.”

to part 4

My Daddy’s likes (pleasure in short commands)

Posted on 29/10/2018 - 02/11/2019 by pseudonymous

It was dark already, the total darkness of a Wisconsin winter evening. I silently went to my bedroom. I was tired.

Find your little near ?
Quietly I opened my bedroom door and slipped in. I walked over to my night table and was taking off my earrings, when I heard something. Someone.

I twirled around and in the darkness I could just see the outline of a large man sitting in a chair beside my bed.

He was here. Daddy

I stopped moving and simply waited for instructions.

“Get naked” was the growl and I immediately began to take my clothing off. My blouse was first, then my bra, leaving me naked from the waist up. He grunted His pleasure at seeing my nipples grow under His gaze. I was His slut.

My skirt was next, leaving me in pantyhose and boy cut panties, which left the bottom of my ass cheeks exposed. I was also wearing my high heels. 4 inches of slut.

“Turn” was His order and I did so.

I bent at the waist and slowly hooked the top of my pantyhose in my thumbs and peeled them off. I was exposing myself for Him. I remained bent over as I kicked the hose from my feet, clad only now in my sexy panties. They were red lace and He had bought them for me only just last week. I quickly put my heels back on. I knew my Daddy’s likes.

I stood there, bent over, bum facing him, waiting for orders.

“Spread” he said and I did so, spreading my legs as far as I could. My legs were shaky in the heels and my dew was beginning to eek out from between my legs.

“Turn”. I did, my eyes now more accustomed to the darkness.

He was naked. His cock was large and flat against His belly, His hand wrapped around it, stroking gently.

“You are late” he stated. I whimpered a bit, knowing that could be bad news for me.

“The class ran late Sir” I defended myself.

He nodded. Excuse accepted.

“Kneel” he ordered and I immediately dropped to my knees.

“Crawl” he ordered and I began to crawl to him across my bedroom floor. My tits swayed as I moved forward and my eyes were only on Him.

I stopped right before Him and bowed my head. Waited.

I could hear His hand softly stroking His cock. I could hear His slightly uneven breathing. I knew He had been waiting for me for a while.

“UP” he ordered and my head snapped up, looking Him in the eyes. His hand went deep into my blond hair and he pulled my head forward.

“Suck” he said as the head of His meaty cock slipped across my lips.

My mouth opened automatically. He pulled my hair and my head forward and His beautiful cock slipped into my mouth and began to rub against the back of my throat.

I struggled not to gag as I felt it hit the back of my throat and slip inside. My ability to breathe was cut off, no air could get around His tool.

My eyes rose to His and I silently worshiped him. His cock went deeper and I accepted it, like a whore should. I am His. Totally and completely.

“My cum first today Daddy’s Toy” he said and I nodded slightly.

My hand came up and I cupped his big heavy balls, stroking them lightly with my finger tips.

Beside his chair I had already seen his big thick leather belt. I would be punished for my lateness, but first He must be pleasured.

He sat back and nodded at me, and I knew. It was up to me to bring Him his pleasure.

I leaned back on my slut heels and caressed my tits. I pulled on my nipples until I bit my bottom lip with the pain/pleasure. I slid my hand down and caressed my thick pussy lips under the red lace. My fingers then went to my mouth and I tasted my juices.

I pushed my mouth forward and my little kitten tongue stretched out, licking all over his Daddy shaft. I felt his body twitch.

As I took him in my mouth, my tongue circled his meaty cock head, then I sucked in it gently. I slid it into my mouth then and down my throat. My greedy mouth movement sucked him in deeply as my small hand caressed His heavy ball sack.

I could read Daddy’s moans. I could read Daddy’s body movements. I knew he was close to cumming deeply into my mouth and down into my tummy.

He suck his hands into my hair, his fingers grabbing my head. He pulled me forward and his big heavy Daddy cock sank deep into my throat and he moaned. I felt his ass rise up out of the chair a bit as he shoved His cock deeper and deeper into my mouth and I struggled to take it all.

I felt it then. His first blast of nectar. Then another. Then another. I drank from his fountain of Daddy juice and he slumped back, spent.

“Good girl” he moaned and I smiled. No matter how badly He would beat me now, I already had won my prize.

The English Daddy. Part 2

Posted on 02/11/2019 - 02/11/2019 by pseudonymous

To part 1

Alan hardly slept a wink. As he climbed into bed next to his wife, his dick was so hard it was beginning to feel painful. He could still smell Felicia and when he closed his eyes he could see that teasing look… the look on her face as she had slipped her hand beneath the waistband of her skirt. He hated her, he hated how she made him feel and yet he was beginning to crave it. His hand instinctively found its own way into his boxer shorts and he gently, but rhythmically stroked his rock hard dick as he played their conversation through again. He felt disgusted with himself; she was nothing but a girl – younger even perhaps than his own daughter. He tried to stop himself; he reluctantly pulled his hand away and jammed it under the pillow beneath him. This was wrong, so so wrong.

Find your little near ?

When Alan awoke it was to the sound of chatter and giggling downstairs. It took a moment for him to recall the events from the previous night and as soon as he began to, his dick sprang to life. He groaned as he rolled over in the bed, Laura had long since got up and he noticed that the time on the alarm clock read 09.47 – she would have left for work by now, Felicia and Holly would be the only ones in the house.

Alan took his time showering and dressing. He tried to distract himself, tried to think of things other than Felicia and last night and for the most part it worked. He knew he couldn’t hide away upstairs forever though and at around 10.30 he ventured down to the kitchen.

He could hear the girls in the living room as he passed, watching TV, all perfectly normal. His eyes scanned over the doorframe and his dick throbbed in his shorts. He ate his breakfast alone in the kitchen whilst scanning the paper; his heart pounding as he heard the living room door open and the girls come bounding into the kitchen.

“Morning Dad!” Holly threw her arms around her father’s neck and kissed him lightly on the cheek, Alan kept his eyes on Felicia the whole time, who was leaning against the sink and staring at him with a knowing look.

“Morning darling girl…”

“Sorry about last night Dad… Felicia said you were a bit cross when we came in.”
Alan’s heart pounded in his chest, Felicia had spoken about last night? He tried to tear his gaze away from her and cleared his throat.

“I just wanted to know you were safe, that’s all.”

“I was fiiiine!” Holly rolled her eyes as she poured herself a glass of orange juice “I was with my friends, and Felicia, she wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me, would you?”

Alan was starting to find Felicia’s stare more than a little uncomfortable by now and she didn’t take her eyes off of him as she agreed with his daughter.

“Well, just let me know what’s going on next time, ok?”

“Ok Dad!”

“What are you girls up to today?” He was hoping that they were going out, heading into town, off to see a movie – anything to get Felicia out of his house. His heart sank as Holly told him that they didn’t have anything planned and we’re just going to sunbathe and stay in the garden for the afternoon. He knew, at that point, it was going to be a very long, hard day.

Alan could hear the girls in the garden as he worked. Their soft murmur of conversation, laughter, and music that was too loud but that he couldn’t tell them to turn down. He got up from his desk a few times and looked out at them – they were both wearing bikinis and soaking up the rays of glorious English sunshine. He made himself sit back down, what the fuck was wrong with him?! She was just a little girl who was trying to manipulate him, he tried telling himself that it was ridiculous, she was probably more intoxicated than he had thought and probably even regretted it this morning. He tried to push it from his mind, but she was giggling, having fun is his garden with his beautiful innocent daughter. He started to feel the anger boil up inside him, the same anger from last night. What a bitch… coming into his house and making him feel uncomfortable.

He pushed his chair noisily back from the desk and stormed out of his small little study – he was only going to go to the bathroom, an excuse to get out of the stiflingly hot room full of work that he couldn’t focus on. But en-route he passed the washing basket, he hadn’t noticed the knickers hanging carelessly over the side earlier. He knew they weren’t his wife’s and as he picked them up and felt their soft silky material he hoped to god that they didn’t belong to his daughter. They couldn’t do… they were too sexy, too pretty to belong to her. He ran his fingers over the smooth material and convinced himself that they belonged to Felicia. She must have been wearing them last night… not wasting another second he took them into the bathroom with him and made sure the door was bolted firmly behind him.

His dick sprang out as he pulled his trousers and boxer shorts down to just below his knees, he was so incredibly hard and pre-cum was starting to seep from the tip. He moaned softly to himself as his hand made contact for the first time, warmth spreading out across his thighs, the sheer pleasure just from touch. He could still hear the girls in the garden through the slightly open window and he tried to block out his daughters’ voice and just listen to the soft French accent that had been consuming his thoughts for the last four days. He was stroking firmer now and he rested his head against the wall and moaned in pleasure as he pictured Felicia last night in his lounge, those big eyes, and the way her hand had slipped down into her skirt. He slowed off… at this rate, he was going to cum too quickly and he wanted to savor this. He had been trying to deny it for so long, but by now he had decided that the filthy little slut almost deserved to be wanked over.
Alan brought the knickers up to his face and inhaled their slightly musky scent, the vague familiarity of it made him moan loudly and he had to sharply remove his hand from his dick to prevent himself from cumming in that instant. He pulled the window shut in embarrassment and examined the knickers a little closer… a small white patch was in the crotch…. His right hand very quickly went straight back onto his dick as he realized that she wasn’t lying about being wet for him.
With his left hand, he wrapped the silky material around his dick, making sure that the crotch of the knickers covered the end. The resistance of the fabric felt fantastic on his shaft and he closed his eyes, picturing Felicia knelt before him, obedient at last. She wanted this, he would cum all over that pretty little face of hers and then he would turn her over and fuck her harder than he had been allowed to fuck his wife in years. He could feel his orgasm starting to build and he rubbed faster and faster through the thin, silky material. He tried to stifle his moans as he came harder than he had in a very long time, his hot sticky cum pumping into the material of the dirty pair of knickers that belonged to his young French houseguest….

That evening the four of them sat down and ate dinner together. Alan, after his time in the bathroom, had done the rather foolish thing of leaving the knickers back in the laundry basket where they came from; he had wrapped them in a towel and assumed that they would all just be gathered up together for the next wash. He had gone back to his study and initially he had felt a bit ashamed and slightly embarrassed and what he had just done, but as the afternoon had drawn into evening he found he was concentrating better on his work and by the time he sat down for dinner, the incident was all but gone from his mind.

The family finished their dinner and, as was normal practice, Alan started running the washing up water to rinse the glasses and cutlery through. Laura came up behind him and gave him a hug before heading out into the cool of the garden to read some of her book and Holly bounded into the living room, probably to go on the laptop. Felicia stayed in the kitchen with Alan.

He knew she was still sitting at the table and he tried not to let it get to him although he could feel his heart rate quicken. He continued with what he was doing and when he felt her come slowly up behind him he tried not to let any emotion show on his face.

“Have you had a good day Daddy?”

He told himself he wasn’t going to bite, not this time. He rinsed the glass that was in his hands and placed it on the drainer. “Yes Felicia, I have. Have you?”

“Mmhmm…” She turned around, placing her hands behind her and leaning against the worktop. If Alan just turned his head slightly to the left then their faces would be as close as they had been last night. “I don’t think my afternoon was half as exciting as yours though Daddy….”

Alan’s head spun…. How could she possibly know? She couldn’t….

He swallowed hard, hoping the panic wasn’t showing on his face. “I hardly think so Felicia, I’ve been working all afternoon.”

“Well, not all afternoon Daddy…” Her voice was gentle and she trailed her finger up Alan’s arm as she spoke… “I’m sure you must have had a toilet break or two, give yourself some relief”

Alan looked at her, she knew, he could tell. She wasn’t bluffing….

“How….”

“How did I know that you jerked off into a pair of pretty silky panties that I left for you?”

All Alan could do was nod….

“Well, that’s just it Daddy, I left them for you, a little present…. And then I found them, scrunched up and sticky in an old bath towel.” Felicia scrunched up her nose in disgust as she spoke…

“You little bitch…” Alan was fuming; she had manipulated him once again.

“Aw Daddy, don’t be like that…” Felicia looked at him with those big doe eyes… “I thought you would like finding a nice little present waiting for you?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you, Daddy, I want you to fuck me, with that nice big dick of yours… I bet it is big, isn’t it?”

“You are completely out of order… you should go home.”

“I know you want to fuck me too Daddy, why else would you have used those knickers?”

“I’m going to phone the contact from the school in the morning Felicia, I want you out of my house!”

“Did you see they were a little bit dirty Daddy?”

He looked at her, teasing him, making him feel worthless, he did want her. He wanted to just give in… “Yes, Felicia, I did…”

“I bet you thought I had been nice and wet when I was wearing them, did you think they were what I was wearing last night?”

“I… I did assume that, yes.”

Felicia smiled. That mischievous smile that he was beginning to know and hate so well.

“Aw Daddy, you were wrong…. I wasn’t wearing them and getting them nice and wet….”

Alan’s heart pounded, he knew what was coming before she had even reached up on tiptoes to whisper into his ear…

“….your little slut of a daughter was…”

Alan watched as Felicia stood back off of her tiptoes, taking in the expression on his face as a coy smile spread across her own…

“You’re lying…” His heart was pounding, he couldn’t have…

She simply shook her head. The smile not fading from her lips.

“You little bitch…” His voice was a hoarse whisper, caught between shame and disbelief. “Why would you do something so… so…”

“Cruel?”

“Twisted.”

“I was upset, Daddy….” She looked at him from beneath her long eyelashes… “I was upset that you didn’t want to fuck me.”

“But they can’t have been hers, they were…”

“Dirty? Pretty? You think your little girl doesn’t like to dress up when she goes out to meet up with her friends, that she doesn’t get wet, turned on…?”

“I want you out of this house, tomorrow. Do you understand me?”

Alan’s voice was stronger now, anger taking over. If he wasn’t so ashamed at what he had done then he would have demanded she leaves right away and would even explain to Laura the reasons why, but she would go tomorrow – of her own accord – he would make sure of it.

“But I like it here Daddy…”

He leaned in close to her, crouching slightly so that his face was mere millimeters away from her own. She flinched.

“I don’t give a fuck. I hate you, I hate having you in my house and I hate your twisted, pathetic little games. Do you understand me? I do not want to fuck you; I do not want to even be near you.”

“Except you do…”

Anger was boiling up inside him, anger, frustration and a desire to punish the little teasing slut that stood before him. He tried to fight it back down… he took a step away from her and placed his hands flat on the draining board, the cool of the stainless steel a welcome sensation on his palms.

“Get out.” His voice was quiet, but by the tone, she knew she had won. Silently she went upstairs to Holly’s bedroom and waited.

That night Alan struggled to sleep, the air around his bed was stifling and he felt as though it was suffocating him. He couldn’t get Felicia out of his mind and yet every time he thought of her he pictured those cum-soaked panties in the laundry basket, his daughter’s panties. Never before had he felt so ashamed and disgusted with himself – and so angry at another. He tried rationalizing it with himself… he had thought that they belonged to Felicia, but just when he thought he could accept that, he started to realize even if they did belong to her then she was still young enough to be his daughter. He had still done something unforgivable, the thoughts he was having were still disgusting, and he was still a dirty old man….

When he awoke the sunlight was pouring in through the open curtains and he knew before he even opened his eyes that it was going to be another scorcher of a day. He rolled over in the bed and watched silently as Laura continued to get dressed, unaware of his eyes upon her body… She was so beautiful; all he had ever wanted was her. He craved the simplicity of a week ago, the normality of his household without Felicia in it. Felicia… His mind and body stirred at the thought of her. He sat up in bed and smiled as his wife came and sat next to him, fastening the clasp of her necklace as she spoke…

“I think you could get used to this whole working from home malarkey?”

He smiled. “I’m actually quite looking forward to going back to work next week!”

“Really? I’m quite looking forward to having a week off… spending some time with Holly and Felicia before she goes back to France.”

“I was going to speak to you about Felicia actually….”

“Oh?”

Alan’s heart pounded in his chest, it felt like he had been playing this conversation out in his head all night.

“Well, two weeks is quite a long time… isn’t it? I mean, do you think she wants to stay that long?”

Laura looked at her husband in disbelief… “I think she loves it here!”

“Look, I wasn’t going to say anything but the other night she was quite upset… she said she was homesick. I think perhaps it would be best if we ask the school to cut her time here short.”

“She did? When?”

“Sunday night, I went down to get some water and she was sat in the lounge….”

“You didn’t mention this before….”

“Well, I’ve hardly seen you!”

Laura cocked her head to one side and smiled. Alan knew the look well; it was the look that told him in no uncertain terms that he was in the wrong.

“All kids get homesick Alan, stop being so soft!”

“She said her mother is unwell and I just think….”

“That we should kick her out?”

“No… no, not kick her out as such, just give her the option to go back home.”

“Shall I speak to her?”

Panic rose in Alan’s throat, “No… no, don’t do that.”

Laura laughed “Honestly, men never grow up do you? Us women are all a mystery to you…. Listen I’ll see how she is when we get home later.”

“We?”

“Yes, Holly and I… I told you last week Alan, it’s the university open day today, we’re going to make a girls day out of it, lunch, a bit of shopping….”

“Isn’t Felicia going with you?”

“No… I thought she could stay here, she has some reading to do and besides, I’ve hardly seen you or Holly lately….” Laura Leant over the bed, letting Alan inhale the familiar scent of her perfume…. “…And I need to make it up to the both of you, individually…”

He took hold of hips wife’s hips, his dick becoming hard under the covers…. Oh what he would give for her to get back into bed and not leave the house today.

“Please don’t go…” Laura laughed…

“Later my Darling, later….”

And within five minutes both she and his daughter were gone. He was alone in the house…. With Felicia.

The English Daddy. Part 1

Posted on 02/11/2019 - 02/11/2019 by pseudonymous

It was near to the end of July and the days were long; lazy evening sunshine filtered through the house until late evening and its inhabitants woke in the morning with twisted sheets, damp with sweat.

Find your little near ?
The visit had been planned for a few months; it was a summer holiday exchange that the school had planned and the British student, Holly, had returned from France a few weeks previously. Now, the middle-class family from rural England were awaiting their new houseguest – a French 18 year old by the name of Felicia.

Little was known about Felicia, there had been a mix up at the last minute with the French family that Holly had stayed with and their son could no longer make it to England for the trip. Felicia had been brought into the equation at the last minute and Holly’s parents, Alan and Laura, had only been given snippets of information about this mysterious young woman.

The day before Felicia’s arrival, Laura spent her time frantically tidying, cleaning and shopping for new bedsheets and towels. When Alan returned from work in the evening he commented on how the house had never looked so clean! Fresh flowers were in every room and Laura had been baking, she wanted to make a good impression, she wanted Felicia to feel at home.

Alan had offered to pick Felicia up from the airport, he wasn’t a fan of driving long distances, but he had hated the thought of his own daughter traveling anywhere alone when she was in France so had mainly offered in order to put Felicia’s parents at ease – but she had declined. When they had spoken briefly on the phone she had assured both Laura and himself that she was capable of getting on a train – she wanted to view the English countryside alone and get a sense of her surroundings.
Alan wasn’t comfortable with the idea but told himself that he was being overprotective and worrying too much, he gave her his mobile number and told her to phone if she was worried about anything at all, even if it seemed silly. She had laughed whilst thanking him; he had imagined a slight eye roll at the end of the line.

Saturday morning came and the house still sparkled – a faint smell of furniture polish hung in the air, it mingled with the aroma of freshly mown grass and Laura felt proud as she welcomed their new guest over the threshold for the first time.

There were the usual pleasantries, hands were shaken and cheeks kissed. Felicia commented on her journey – how beautiful the English countryside was in the early morning sunshine, but how vile her tea had tasted on the train. Alan helped her to bring her suitcase in, surprised that such a waif-like girl had managed to bring it this far! She, of course, thanked him profusely, before heading into the kitchen with his wife for a ‘decent’ cup of tea.

Alan carried her case upstairs, Felicia was to be sharing a room with his own 18-year-old Holly – Holly was spending the morning in town with some friends and he hurriedly picked up the socks and magazines that littered the floor surrounding her bed. He sighed as he straightened out her bedsheets and tried to get her side of the room looking half as presentable as his wife had made Felicia’s. He heard the slight mumble of their voices below him in the kitchen, the familiarity of his wife’s tone mixed with the gentle, breathy French accent of Felicia’s. She was confident, he noticed that as soon as his wife had opened the front door to her – she had a smile that instantly put others at ease and eyes that shone whilst exploring her new surroundings as she spoke. He tried to imagine Holly in the same position, meeting her French hosts for the first time, but the picture in his mind was skewed. Holly seemed younger and slightly less sure of herself, although she was actually two months older. He looked around at the clothes his daughter had tried on that morning whilst choosing what to wear, the scraps of paper and homework that had been hurriedly pushed into her schoolbag, that same bag she had carried with her for the last four years. She had a series of photographs taped up on the wall next to her bed, evenings out with friends – outreached arms taking snapshots of times where they had been relaxed and laughing, she was still so young. His gaze fell onto Felicia’s bed, the cleanliness of it, it looked so much more grown-up, more refined.

Over the next couple of days, Felicia settled into the family well. She got on well with Laura and Holly – fitting into conversations and laughing along with them like she had known them both for years. When Alan took himself to bed at night he noticed the light still shining from under his daughter’s bedroom door and he had smiled to himself and he heard hushed giggles and excited chatter. Laura seemed to enjoy having another female in the house too – the weekend had been good.

Sunday night was humid. Alan had brought the fans down from the loft earlier in the week and there was one in both of the bedrooms, but the air still hung heavy over them as they tried to sleep. Alan woke from fitful slumber at around 2am; Laura was sleeping soundly next to him, her naked back silhouetted in the faint light that was coming from the open window. His mouth felt dry, he wasn’t sure what had awoken him but the taste of sleep was stale and unpleasant in his mouth. Silently he crept out of the bedroom, avoiding the creaky floorboard just inside the door and sleepily made his way to the kitchen. The water felt cool as it passed his lips and he drunk a pint down in one, he refilled the glass to take back up with him and as he flicked the kitchen light off he noticed the dim glow of the table lamp coming from the living room. Puzzled, he entered the room to switch it off, but in doing so he noticed Felicia curled up on one corner of the settee, a blanket covering her legs.

“Felicia?”

She hadn’t heard him enter and his voice made her look up suddenly. He was shocked at what he saw, gone was the welcoming smile and in its place were two tear-stained eyes.

“Felicia…? What on earth is the matter?”

Instinct made him approach her; he sat on the settee a little way away from her feet.

“Oh it’s nothing, I’m sorry, did I wake you?” her delicate hands played with the well-used tissue in her hands as she spoke.

“It doesn’t look like nothing. You didn’t wake me; I was just getting a drink…”

She gave a sad smile, his eyes falling on the pint glass Alan had placed on the coffee table. “It’s a hot night.”

“Too hot…” Alan agreed

“Do you mind if I have some?”

“No, of course not!” Alan leaned forward and handed the glass to Felicia, Both of her hands held the glass and he watched as she took a few small sips before placing it back on the coffee table and thanking him.

“So… what’s all this about?” Alan motioned toward the tissue in her hands; he tried not to look up into her eyes, crying women always made him slightly uncomfortable. He longed for his wife to wake up; she’d know exactly what to do.

“You’ll think it is silly…”

“Not at all! Are you missing home?”

Felicia sniffed and nodded. “Seeing you and Laura and Holly… it makes me realize.”

Alan smiled “You’ll be back home soon… back with your parents.”

Felicia looked down at the tissue in her hands, her voice sounded small as she spoke. Without looking up at Alan, she explained how it wasn’t the same. How her mother was depressed and that her father didn’t know what to do. Her voice wavered as she explained how there was never very much food and that she had needed to get away just for a bit of relief from the heavy sadness that was becoming unbearable. Alan wanted to hug her; she looked so smallsat on his sofa. Her long dark hair was loose and when she did eventually look up her eyes seemed large in the dim glow of the corner light. There was something in those eyes that Alan hadn’t noticed before, something that he couldn’t put his finger on, but they had a wildness to them, young naivety mixed with the experience of a woman older than Felicia’s 18 years. He felt his dick twinge beneath the thin cotton of his pajama shorts and he shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to say something comforting, he wanted to put his arms around her and hold her like he would do his own daughter if she was upset. But she wasn’t his daughter, she was a very pretty 18-year-old girl who he didn’t really know and she was sat next to him at 2am in the morning wearing nothing but a tight vest, and from what he could make out, shorts that wouldn’t be appropriate to wear outdoors.

Felicia sniffed and brought him out of his thoughts. “Are you ok?” Her dark eyes searched his face for an answer.

“Oh… Um, yes” he smiled; he hoped it was convincing enough, hoped it didn’t give away the thoughts that had just raced across his mind.

“You are so sweet Alan.” She smiled, “I’ve not told a lot of people about my mother, hardly anyone in fact….”

“Well, I shan’t tell anyone.”

He wanted to go to bed; he wanted his dick not to be hard, but that smile, those eyes….

“Alan?”

“Yes, Felicia?”

“Can I have a hug please?”

“Oh… um… I’m not sure that’s really….”

“Please Alan, I could really just to with a hug.”

He found himself raising his arm, he slipped it around her small frame and he tried not to tense as she pressed her small body against his. He hoped that his erection wasn’t as obvious as it felt, but the more he willed it to go away, the more he focused on it. Her head was under his nose, he inhaled her scent… she smelt like sleep and a faint perfume, light and wistful. He tried not to look down, tried not to watch slow rise and fall of her chest, the way her small breasts pushed against the light fabric of her vest on every inward breath. He cursed himself, he should have gone upstairs, this girl was not his problem….

“Alan?”

He cleared his throat, trying to push his thoughts aside once again.

“Are you like my English daddy?”

Alan sat up straight, his sudden movement causing Felicia to sit up with him. She looked startled, hurt by his sudden movement.

“What did you just say?”

She looks mildly upset like she had been caught doing something naughty. “I… I asked if you were like my English daddy now.”

“You have a daddy… a father, Felicia.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t care! All he cares about is himself! He’s never held me like that, you make me feel safe.”

Alan was stunned by Felicia’s sudden outburst…. “I’m sure he does Felicia, he sounds like he has a lot to think about….”

“He should think about me, Alan! I need my daddy to look after me, not send me off to another country!”

“Felicia… I’m sure he cares very much about you…”

“I want to feel like I’m wanted, Alan.” She looked like she was about to cry again and the conversation was making Alan feel extremely uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure he, or his dick, could face this beautiful young girl crying onto his shoulder….

“I think maybe we’re both tired….”

“Can I call you daddy?”

“Felicia, no! No, that’s not a good idea….”

“But why? I just need to feel safe…. Daddy.” As she said the last word, her eyes flicked up and locked with Alan’s, he couldn’t bear much more of this.

“I’m going to bed now…”

Alan got up to leave.

“I’m sorry.” Felicia’s heavily accented voice was quiet and small behind him as he reached the door, he turned back to look at her, curled up on his sofa in the dim light of the lamp that had been a wedding present nearly 20 years ago. It was with slight horror that he realized that the lamp was older than Felicia….

“It’s ok. Go and get some sleep.”

She nodded her reply as he left the room and retreated to the relative safety of his bed. Thoughts of her, her hair, how small she felt nestled in the crook of his arm, her smell, the rising and falling of her breasts with each breath, the way her voice sounded as it pronounced those two simple syllables… daddy… dad…dy ‘Are you my English Daddy now?’… Her words filled his mind and consumed his thoughts as he struggled to drift off to sleep.

Monday passed without event… both Holly and Felicia rose quite late and spent the morning watching TV and eating breakfast in the lounge together. Laura went to work and Alan, who was working from home for the next few days, remained in his study for the majority of the day.

A few times, Alan went over in his mind the conversation he had shared with Felicia the previous night. He didn’t know what it was, but there was something. Something about those big tear-stained eyes and the way she looked at him when she had called him ‘Daddy’. He felt disgusted with himself – he was a Daddy, to a beautiful girl who he would never, ever think of in that way. But Felicia, well, she was different, she was young, yes that couldn’t really be denied. But she wasn’t as innocent as Holly, she must have known what she was doing, what sort of reaction she would get.

Alan found it hard to concentrate on his work, he could hear the girls giggling in the lounge and on a few occasions he pictured Felicia in her small shorts and a pyjama top. Each time he shifted uncomfortably and tried to ignore his erection, but his mind was coming up with fantasies and scenarios that were so brand new that they turned him on and yet embarrassed him simultaneously.

Around 5 pm he heard Laura come home from work and the following excited chatter and noises in the kitchen as she prepared dinner. He ventured downstairs when he smelt food and all of the women in his kitchen greeted him warmly. The only one he was paying any attention to though was Felicia. She had got dressed at some point and was wearing dark jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt, but she looked stunning. His dick sprang to life once again as he watched her confidently move about the kitchen, his kitchen. He sat and ate with his family and their guest, trying not to let his mind wander, trying to focus on the normal mundane conversations.

After dinner, Holly announced, quite confidently, that both she and Felicia were going out for the evening. Alan leaned back in his chair as the left the kitchen to get ready…

“Holly?”

“Yep?” his daughter ducked back into the room whilst Felicia waited in the doorway.

“Where are you going?”

“Just to a couple of pubs with some friends….”

“What friends?”

“Dad…” Holly rolled her eyes, embarrassed at being questioned by him in front of Felicia “Just my normal friends, the guys I go to college with. Amy, Matt, Lee, Helen… the usual lot!”

He glanced at Felicia in the doorway, he couldn’t picture her with Holly’s friends, they were good kids, wholesome kids who studied hard, drank pints and were polite to their parents. They didn’t call strangers ‘Daddy’….

“Just… just be careful ok?

Holly scrunched her brow and looked at Alan like he had just uttered the most nonsensical thing she had ever heard. “Ok Dad!”

As the girls left the room and he turned back to his wife, she too looked at him strangely.

“What?”

She simply shrugged. “You can’t protect her forever Alan…”

11pm passed and so did 12am. Laura went to bed whilst Alan stayed up. He flicked through the TV channels absent-mindedly, where were they? He tried to imagine what they would be doing, how late it would have to be before his sensible daughter decided to call it a night. He watched a program on BBC2 about homeless people in London and half of a trashy American sitcom before he heard the familiar ‘click’ of the front door. There were hushed giggles, drunken giggles. Alan stayed where he was as he listened to his daughter try to be quiet and fail spectacularly… the living room door was ajar and he watched as she ascended the stairs. Felicia was behind her… more sober, more composed. She laughed with Holly as she watched her up the first few steps and then turned to take her coat off; as she did she glanced into the living room and spotted Alan.

“Oh… Alan, sorry I didn’t know you were in there.”

“Evidently. My daughter is drunk Felicia.”

“Yeah… it kind of got a little messy….”

Alan looked at her, stood just inside the shadowed light of the doorway. She wasn’t completely sober and this knowledge only served to drive his imagination wild… her long dark hair was disheveled, possibly from stumbling through the door. Her eyeliner made her already dark eyes look huge….

“Messy?”

“Well… we all had possibly a little bit too much to drink….”

“You think?”

Alan switched off the TV and walked over to where she was in the doorway. He hadn’t realized until he got close to her, how much taller he was, she seemed tiny in comparison.

“She’ll be ok in the morning, I’ll take her up some water….”

“I do not like seeing my little girl drunk and making a fool of herself Felicia.”

“She wasn’t making a fool of herself, she was just having a bit of fun!”

“Fun?”

“Yeah…. Fun! She’s 18 years old Alan, lighten up!”

Alan’s heart was pounding in his chest; he was stood so close to Felicia that he could smell her… she smelt like perfume and sweet alcohol.

“I am her father Felicia, I have been sat here wondering where on earth you two were, if you were safe, who you were with….”

“Like a caring Daddy?”

That word… that one word, he hadn’t realized until she had said it just how much he had been longing to hear it again. He placed his hand behind her, trapping her between the wall and himself.

“Oh, we’re back onto that one are we?”

Felicia looked up and smiled.

“You think you can wrap me around your little finger by calling me, Daddy?”

Felicia stuck her bottom lip out and trailed her index finger up Alan’s chest. “You mean I can’t?”

He snatched her hand away, startled at how small it felt in his own “Stop that!”

“Why Daddy, does it feel wrong?”

“You know it feels wrong!” Alan could feel his dick starting to strain against the fabric of his trousers… why did he get up? Why did he even start a conversation with her?

“Not to me…” She shook her head innocently… “I just need a big strong Daddy to love me and take control of me….”

“You are drunk Felicia!”

“I’ve not drunk Daddy… I’ve only had a couple.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Why?” Felicia looked up at him “Does it make your dick hard daddy? Does it make you want to do bad things with me?”

“For fuck’s sake Felicia! What are you saying?” He moved away from her now, but it didn’t deter her.

“I’m saying I think you would just love to punish me for staying out late tonight…. For corrupting your sweet little innocent daughter….”

He lunged back towards her “You leave my daughter out of this!”

Felicia laughed “You leave my daughter out of this” she mocked him…. “Why Daddy? I thought Daddies loved all their daughters equally?”

“You are not my fucking daughter!”

“No…” She smiled “I’m not.”

“You’re sick Felicia, twisted, fucked up in the head!”

She stopped smiling and her voice lowered to a whisper…. “So you’re telling me that you don’t want to fuck me? That you haven’t been cooped up in that little study of yours all day thinking about bending me over your desk and taking exactly what you want from me?”

“No. No, I haven’t…. “

“You’re a liar.”

“I think you should go to bed.”

Felicia looked down and grinned “I know your dick is hard Daddy….”

“Shut up…” Alan was angry now, angry at this girl, this child coming into his home and upsetting everything….

“How long is it since you’ve had a pair of pretty little lips wrapped around your big dick Daddy?”

“Go to bed Felicia!”

“I want to go to bed with you Daddy….” Alan watched, partly in horror, partly in disbelief but mostly in awe as Felicia’s right hand reached below the waistline of her skirt… she gasped as closed her eyes.. “You’ve made me so wet Daddy….”

He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take, he was dying to touch his dick, his balls were tingling like crazy. She was right, he wanted to bend her over and fuck her, hard. He wanted to make her regret winding him up, he longed to feel how tight she was around his dick and make her moan as he pushed deep inside her.

“Why are you doing this?” His voice was hoarse…

She opened her eyes and looked at him, continuing to work her fingers beneath her skirt. “Because I want you to fuck me”

“Felicia?” Holly’s voice came as a surprise to them both, making Alan jump away from Felicia as if someone had just walked into the room. “Felicia, can you bring up some water?”

The young girl simply smiled at Alan and brought her fingers up to his face. He smelt her sweet musky scent as she trailed them over his lips. “I think that’s my cue to go to bed Daddy… goodnight.”

He could still taste her on his lips long after she had disappeared upstairs…

To part 2

Daddy Loves his girl

Posted on 15/01/2019 - 05/02/2019 by pseudonymous

Note: This story involves consenting adults and is no way a work describing acts of pedophilia.

Find your little near ?
“Jesus Christ will you shut the hell up?” I thought as I stared blankly at my boss sitting across from my desk. He’s droning on and on about how his internet connection at home is slow and if I think he should buy a new Dell. I try to act as if I’m paying attention but all I hear is “Blah blah blah” and I desperately want these five minutes of my life back.

My little baby girl

Mercifully he concludes his lame diatribe and walks out of my office. I decided to check on my girl again. Months ago after acquiring her, I installed web controlled wireless security cams in the house. I’m not concerned about burglars, but do it just to watch over her lovingly. She loves the idea that she can be watched secretly and protected by her Daddy.

Amanda is in her mid 20’s, has a petite body with athletic overtones, and raven black hair which hangs down between her shoulder blades. Her eyes, definitely her most striking feature, are a deep, radiant blue. Sometimes when I stare into them I feel as though I’m floating in the air and they are compelling me to fall into them. She’s certainly not a supermodel, but she’s very attractive in an understated way and men pay attention to her in public for reasons even they can’t comprehend. When I “found” her she was a shy, reclusive loner who isolated herself in clothes befitting an old librarian who obsessively kept way too many cats. Months of training stripped that outer coating off to reveal the beautiful temptress within. She means the world to me.

Anyway, I look on the web again and am watching her while she does her chores in the nude. During daily tasks, she isn’t allowed to wear clothes, which was very hard for her to grow accustomed to. Even now after so many months of ownership my chest still tightens up a little every time I look at her. They are feelings of love to be sure, but so much more than that. When I gaze upon her I am driven to possess her, use her, and revel in her treasures. It is at the same time a need for spiritual bonding and an insatiable drive to further my dark hold over her and to subjugate her to my will through mind-bending sexual experiences and intense mind games.

Tonight I’m going to do something special. I’ve been thinking about it all day and can’t concentrate on my work. I’ve remained in my office most of the day letting the desk shield the evidence of my arousal. While watching her, I’m touching myself through my slacks and pondering the dark, twisted things I will do to her this night. As I’m watching her on the cams, I ring the phone. Noticing who is calling, she takes a moment to calm herself and answers, “Yes Sir.” Subconsciously she turns around to face the nearest security cam in the hopes that I am watching her at this moment.

I reply, “Hello Mandy, how is my little girl?” This is a trigger. The use of the name Mandy as opposed to Amanda causes her face and chest to flush red. She knows what this means, it’ll be one of our very special nights.

When she replies I can hear the huskiness in her voice even as it rises in pitch to mimic a young girl’s, specifically a girl of about 10 or 12. “I’m really good Daddy.” I continue this little banter with her in which I ask her about her chores, her girlfriends (non-existent 12-year-old friends of course), and anything else little girl related. With this banter and using the power of my voice, I am grooming her for the day’s events.

I tell her to have dinner ready when I get home at 5 and that I will be renting a movie for us to watch for the evening. I tell her to go and get ready, and with a “Yes Daddy, I love you” she hangs up the phone to get ready.

I turn off the cam and actually try to get some work done. However, I cannot push her from my mind and I fantasize about the things I will do with her. I stop on the way home and pick up “The Jungle Book” by Disney.

As I walk in the door, I expect her to come running, but I get no reception. Normally on one of these nights, she’ll come running up and give me a girlish hug and a kiss on the cheek. I call out, “Mandy? Daddy’s home” but I hear silence in return. Well, that’s strange, but the house is sparkling clean and I can smell food in the oven, so I sit down and read the newspaper while I wait. It’s important to remember that I have to do things that are stereotypically Daddy-like such as reading the paper, drinking beer, fatherly language etc to complete the illusion, though in truth I actually dislike doing these things. It hardly builds the right atmosphere if she comes into the house and her Daddy is playing Halo.

I hear her key in the lock watch as she nearly skips into the living room. She is dressed perfectly in a tight t-shirt top which says “Princess” and a knee length skirt with cute pink tennis shoes and matching socks. She isn’t wearing a bra because we haven’t gone out to buy her first training bra yet. This is a farce of course as she is a small C-cup, but it will make for another exciting encounter. She’s put her hair up in pigtails and looks simply adorable. As I sit there gazing at her two things occur to me. The first is that I love this girl as much as any man has ever loved his woman, and the second is that we are both going to go to hell for our sick, twisted needs.

The young lady is in trouble

Speaking authoritatively I ask what every father has asked throughout history, “Where have you been young lady?”

She blushes and replies, “I’m sorry Daddy, but I was at Sally’s house. She needed help with our Math homework.” Of course, there is no Sally, but this is a nice touch. So, I tell her to get washed up for dinner.

Everything occurs like it normally would if it were a father and daughter at home, except that I occasionally disrupt her pattern with little triggers here and there meant to keep her off balance and wondering what will happen next. I do this by seductively touching her arm briefly in an inappropriate way, “accidentally” bumping into her in the kitchen, and a myriad of other small gestures. As she’s washing up I get up and quickly grab a bunch of DVD’s and toss them all over the floor. Then as she comes back into the room I chastise her for not cleaning the living room properly.

Her eyes go red as she says, “But I did clean it, Daddy. I don’t know how those got on the floor.” I walk up to her and look her in the eyes and ask her if she’s arguing with me. She replies, “No, not at all.” So, I tell her to pick them up and she argues (intentionally) “But I already cleaned up Daddy,” so I slap her smartly across the face. Of course, this stops her in her tracks and she stares at me mutely while her eyes tear up. God how I love her when she looks at me like this.

My eyes bore deeply into hers and I coldly ask “Is there some breakdown of communication here? Did I not just ask you to clean that stuff up?” She demurely says “Yes Daddy, I’ll do it right now,” and begins picking up the cases. I then tell her to do it slowly because I am admiring her form while she is bent over in that skirt. She turns around to look at me after I sit down with a quizzical look on her face. It is a mixture of confusion, arousal, and apprehension. “Why do I need to go slowly?” she asks. And I respond with the tried and true parental statement “Because I said so” with a smirk.

As she’s picking up the DVD’s I am admiring her bare legs and the white cotton panties she is wearing. She turns around and observes me watching her cute little bottom and shows the same expression. Being that she’s 12, she is still innocent to the ways of the world, but not totally ignorant about the carnal desires of men. She and I have had that talk on another occasion about how dangerous strangers are, especially men. She knows I’m staring at her behind, but she can’t bring herself to believe that her Daddy would look at her “that way.” This thought is disgusting to her and shames her greatly. What is wrong with her that would make her beloved Daddy look at her this way? Any attention, even attention like this is welcomed as she knows it is a sign that he loves her.

After she is done slowly picking up the videos she asks, “May I get up Daddy?” I make her wait almost a full minute as my eyes caress her entire body and face and I tell her that I think she needs a hug.

Mandy walks over to my chair and bends over to hug me. It’s natural to hug your little girl after punishing her and the show of affection will calm her mind. Or at least it would have if I hadn’t taken my left arm and let it slyly roam to the top of her bottom and rubbed gently. Once again, I can feel her energy change to shock and confusion, but as before it is suffused with the innocently raw desire to be touched in forbidden places. She continues this hug for a nearly uncomfortable length of time because she doesn’t want to anger me further.

Images flash in my mind right now of taking her into her bedroom (which is a room with the little girl theme with the canopy bed and girl stuff everywhere) by the hair, restraining her arms with the pink jump rope I bought her last week, and savagely penetrating her over and over again. I sigh to myself and relax, reminding myself that the prolonged build-up of the encounter always pays off in the long run. Instead of ravaging her I tell her she can go and get my dinner.

While we eat, I occasionally remind her to act like a young lady with table manners the way any good Daddy would. We both eat quickly because we are anxious to continue the role-play.

I own a large lazy boy chair for a couple of reasons, the primary of which being that she can sit on my lap comfortably on it. While I lounge in the chair and watch TV she quickly cleans up the dinner mess and brings me a drink. However, she holds the drink incorrectly, most likely on purpose. When a subbie/slave hands her Master a drink she should be holding it with her palm up cupping the bottom so as not to make the hand transfer cumbersome. I’m sure she has done this on purpose to incur some wrath.

I refuse to take the drink while looking deeply into her eyes. The pause is agony for her as I well know, but she relishes the torment. “Why am I displeased with you Mandy?”

She knows damn well, but she won’t say. I know what she craves, but I want to make her squirm for it. “Well????” I ask, and she replies that she has no idea.

I roughly take the glass from her and tell her to go and get me a wooden spoon from the kitchen. She starts to argue, “But Daddy, I didn’t do anyth……” but I am faster than she expected. I deftly turn her wrist over with a slight twist and the sudden pain forces her to fall to her knees before she can finish the word. Though she is in a supplicating position she looks up with me with those captivating teary eyes of hers and awaits my commands. I angrily (an act to enhance her experience) explain to her how to hold the glass while I punctuate each word with more wrist pain. I then instruct her to get me the wooden spoon.

She brings the spoon and stands in front of me. She has a solitary tear on her left cheek. I instruct her to bend towards me and I kiss the tear away.

“You know your Daddy loves you more than anything, right sweetie?” I ask.

“Yes Daddy.”

“I want you to be the best little girl in the world. I can’t allow my girl to get lax in her responsibilities. Now, assume the position.” She reluctantly does so. I just let her lay there anticipating what is to come and I calmly watch TV for a minute or two before switching it off. As I gaze down at her across my lap, I can’t help but once again admire her form. I gently stroke her hair and neck while I consider the proper word for this punishment.

I begin by lecturing her, “Mandy, how many times have I told you how to bring a drink to me? How many times must I repeat it? You need to pay better attention to details or you will make me very angry. Now, to help remind you of this, we shall use the word conscientious.” She begins to cry softly as she realizes that word has 13 letters and because she is very ashamed of having failed in this small, but a significant task. I can feel myself getting powerfully erect and I’m sure she can also feel that on her tummy.

Punishment time

However, as I reach down and lift up her skirt, she starts to wail and kick a bit. She doesn’t like (or pretends not to like) to have her panties on view and was hoping for a spanking through the skirt. She sobs, “Daddy, aren’t I getting too old for you to see my panties???” I grab her hair to steady her and give her one sharp, stinging crack with the wooden spoon and tell her to shut up, be a good girl, and receive her punishment. With the skill of a magician, I deftly slid her cotton panties down over her cheeks and exposing her bare bottom. She jerks upward in an attempt to protest and I force her back down with my firm hold of her hair.

She calms but continues to cry softly. “What was the word,” I ask and she responds with conscientious. “Alright, let’s begin.” I slap her right cheek with my bare hand and she responds with a “C” said loudly and clearly. Then with a second and she responds with an “O.” We, of course, are spelling the word conscientious so she will remember to be such. However, as we are 8 letters in she is sobbing uncontrollably and is quite unintelligible. I tell her that none of the next spanks will count until she catches her breath and starts speaking clearly and I switch from using the spoon to my hand. The hand is mortifying because I am touching her panty clad virginal bottom but at the same time more arousing than the wooden spoon. I switch back and forth from bare hand to spoon so she never knows which is coming next. I take a few moments between each slap with the hand to caress her bum and occasionally the tops of her bare legs. After a few swats with the hand, she gets better control of herself and starts calling off letters again. We finish with the final “S” and I let her lie across my lap sobbing while I stroke her hair and tell her that I love her. Mandy has porcelain-like skin on her bottom which easily reddens. Stroking her like this after a spanking is one of our most intimate moments.

When she is calmed down, I ask her if she can be a good girl now, and of course, she responds, “Yes Daddy.” I then have her pick up the drink, put another ice cube in it, and return it to me in the proper way and all is forgiven.

I have her put the movie in and she sits on the couch. I then tell her that I want her to sit in my lap. I can see from the look on her face that she is uncomfortable with this, most likely because her panties are very moist from the spanking, but as she is being a good girl, she complies.

The movie, which is one we’ve both seen before, is inconsequential and I am barely paying attention to it. Instead, my focus is on my girl, how nice she feels in my lap, and how nice her little girl perfume smells. As we watch, she sings the songs in the movie as she knows it pleases me when she does this in her little girl way. However, as she pretends to remain oblivious of my intentions I have placed my right hand across her legs to hold onto her outside knee in a very innocent way. I can’t have my little girl falling out of the chair so I also hold her around the waist with my left hand holding her hip. I begin the seduction by slowly rubbing her knee and lower leg in a seductive way. Her legs are deliciously smooth and soft as I require that she shave every day and moisturize her entire body twice a day. As I am stroking her leg, she adjusts herself in my lap in an innocent way, but I know damn well she’s massaging my crotch as well as alleviating some sore spots on her bottom. This is all done very slowly as the need must be allowed to build like a volcano about to erupt.

We are at the point in the movie where the snake is charming the kid with song and I decide to sing with her. I sing, not in the innocent way a kid does, but mockingly with a much darker purpose.

Trust in me, just in me….. Shut your eyes and trust in me…

As the snake seduces the kid, I am seducing my little girl and like the snake, we will both devour our prey. She closes her eyes like instructed in the song, but continues to sing with me and the TV. I’m fully erect now, and I am pushing right at the little V of her panties. We can both feel that, and it is driving me as wild as she. I decide that I have to escalate this game. I slowly slide my right hand between her knees, she jumps a little but remains eyes closed and singing. I can tell that she’s desperately trying to pretend that I’m not doing what I’m doing. She’s concentrating on the song as if she could just wish this invasion away. She’s relying on the child-like practice that if you don’t look at the boogeyman, he can’t hurt you. Well, this evil man has his needs and they will be satisfied. I slowly slide my hand up into the V, stroking the baby soft skin of her thighs. I can barely breathe at this point and I am on the verge of losing all control. My skin burns and my face must be red hot. Still, with eyes closed, she tilts her head upwards, relishing my touch, but at the same time not showing her face because she is red with embarrassment and shame. I have been stroking her hair while this has been going on and as she tilts her head upwards, I gather it in a tight fist so that I completely control her head. In just another moment, I am going to force her mouth onto mine, kissing her in a decidedly lewd way and introduce her to the world of debased sexual need.

She has a secret in her panties

Then the god damn song stops and she comes out of her trance. She shakes free of the grip I have on her hair, hops up and says, “I’m sorry Daddy, but I have to go to the bathroom really bad.” While she’s in there I sit in the chair aching in my frustration and need, but I calm myself with some deep breaths. I take those moments to remind myself to have patience, and the longer I delay the greater the release will be. I half suspect she did this to prolong both our agony and seriously doubt that she’s actually going to the bathroom. Then I notice that my entire crotch is damp with the definite aroma of feminine musk. She’s going to the bathroom to “clean up.”

The bathroom door opens and she immediately darts towards her little girl bedroom for something. I’m sure I know what it is, so I stop her and tell her to come back. “Daddy, I want to get something from my room,” she says. I tell her that she’s fooled around enough today and to come back to watch the movie. “Alright, but I need to go to the bathroom again.” Again I refuse to let her because I know exactly what she wanted to get from her room.

She comes to stand in front of me but doesn’t come back into my lap and once again, I know why. I tell her to come to me, but she won’t. I sit and stare at her for at least a full minute while she burns under this scrutiny. When I inquire as to why she answers “I don’t know. I don’t want to watch the movie anymore. Can we do something else?”

The truth of the matter is that her panties were dripping wet. In her little girl state, this shamed her that she would get all excited about her Daddy doing bad things to her so she took them off and most likely hid them in the bathroom. She can’t sit on my lap because she is wearing nothing under that skirt as I thwarted her efforts to get a new pair.

She wants to do something where she doesn’t have to sit on my lap. I pretend to consider this, which of course gives her hope that her sexual depravity won’t be discovered. While considering, I stare at her some more in a disapproving way, because I enjoy watching her squirm in her shame. In fact, she is standing in front of me, looking at her feet, while fidgeting with them. Her left foot is partially on top of her right, and she can’t stand still. After a long minute, I suggest, “Let’s play a board game.” She readily agrees because she’ll be able to sit at the table and hide her nakedness under it.

This is when I spring my surprise on her. “Go to the entryway and get the bag I left there. Daddy bought a board game today and we’ll play that.”

Mandy says, “Oh, goodie. Which game did you buy?”

With a sneer, I look deeply into her radiant blue eyes and say, “Oh Mandy, I thought the perfect game would be Twister. Open the box and get it set up.”

Kinky girls in She returns my predatory stare with one equally afraid and innocent and reluctantly opens the box.

And this is where the fun really begins.

The Grade 2 [Daddy]

Posted on 10/10/2018 by pseudonymous

The Grade part 1

The Mommy had disappeared into the bathroom and Miranda used her hands to wipe her mouth and chin to no avail. She opened the door to a large, middle aged and red faced man who towered over Miranda. “Well, well, well took you long enough. I guess it’s up to me to teach you some manners.” He shut the door and pushed her against the wall, pinning her wrists over her head with one meaty hand. He stared into her eyes while his other hand explored under her shift. “It seems Mommy has been busy with you little girl. Am I correct?” Miranda stammered, “Ssssshhhhhhe just….”. He pinched her hard nipple, the pain was exquisite but shocking, “Little girl you’d best answer, ‘Yes Daddy’ and then only open your slutty mouth for my cock,”. Miranda whispered, “Yes Daddy.” He released her nipple and found her soaking cunt. He let go of her wrists as he undid his belt, then backed away after pushing her to the floor by her shoulders. He sat in the desk chair and called for the other woman in a clipped, angry tone. “You were supposed to have our girl ready for me. Instead you seem to have used her for yourself. Clean her up so you can show her what Daddy wants.” He turned his gaze to Miranda, “ Don’t you cum sweetheart. Mommy is just getting you ready to make Daddy happy. Do you want to please Daddy.” Miranda felt her pussy throbbing, “Yes Daddy”.

Mommy parted Miranda’s legs where she sat against the wall as Miranda slid onto her back. The Daddy took off his pants and boxers and began stroking his thick, long cock as his wife softly licked Miranda’s aching pussy lapping up her juices. Miranda whimpered and lifted her hips. The Mommy’s tongue was whipping her quickly into a frenzy and she squirted into Mommy’s mouth. “Thats enough”, said the man. “On your knees and watch Mommy.” She watched as he stood and the woman dropped to her knees in front of him, eyes closed and mouth open. He grabbed the back of her head and brutally fucked her mouth. She gagged and drooled but did not move a muscle. After a short time, he was ready for Miranda. Miranda crawled closer to the Daddy and kneeled in front of him. The other woman used one hand to guide Miranda’s open mouth to his cock and the other to finger Miranda’s swollen pussy. Miranda moaned on the Daddy’s cock and swallowed him down to her throat. “Mmmmmm, that’s my good girl.” She began gliding her tongue around his shaft as she moved slowly up and down. It wasn’t long before he grabbed her pigtails and thrust himself deep into her throat and holding himself there as she gagged and tears streamed down her face. Each time his cock hit her throat Miranda squirted into the woman’s hand. “Oh Daddy, our girl is doing so well”, she chirped happily. Miranda sensed he was about to cum and got ready for her treat. Instead, he pulled out of her mouth and pulled her over his lap seething. “I told you not to cum.”, he spat out. Miranda knew better than to argue and said. “Yes Daddy”. “Naughty, filthy girls get punished”, and with that his huge hand began spanking her. It felt like a frying pan hitting her bottom and she cried out just as Mommy stuffed her panties in Miranda’s mouth. The heat spread from her ass to her pussy and she gushed onto his thighs. He flipped her to all fours on the bed and instructed her not to cum until he told her to this time. Miranda nodded. He spread her cheeks and pressed his cock into her tiny asshole. Mommy had gotten a wand and delicately touched it to Miranda’s clit. She pushed back onto Daddy’s cock needing him to fill her as the wand brought her closer to the edge. She could tell by his breathing he was close, he began ramming himself deep into Miranda. Mommy pulled the panties from Miranda’s mouth and kissed her passionately just as the Daddy told her to cum. Miranda’s collapsed, shaking from an orgasm more intense than she had ever felt before. Mommy held her as wave after wave hit her. After, Daddy pet her and told her how proud he was as Mommy cleaned her up with soft towels. Mommy tucked her in while Daddy dressed. Daddy placed the teddy bear in her arms and told her a story while Mommy dressed. Each kissed her on the forehead before turning out the light and closing the door. Miranda fell into peaceful sleep, sure that her adventure had ended on a high note.

Until the door burst open and a gloved hand covered her mouth…….

Miranda wakes screaming into the gloved hand over her mouth. Without a thought, she bites as hard as possible into the thin leather. The big hand is gone only to return to slap her hard across the face, “Bitch!”, growls a gruff male voice. She can’t see a thing it’s pitch black in the room. She rolls off the bed, hits the floor hard and crawls towards the balcony. She’s not thinking of anything but escaping however possible. This can’t be part of the plan. She is almost to the doors when he grabs her ankle with one hand and yanks her back. She kicks back and makes contact with her heel. He’s wearing a ski mask. He releases her to adjust the mask. He’s laughing as she pulls herself up to open the doors, “This will be more fun than I thought”, he tell her as he watches her struggle to fling open the doors. Just as they open, he is on her again. This time tying a gag around her head. “We can’t have you frightening the guests dear.” She is flailing as he holds her by the waist, when she sees the tip of the knife she stills. The tears pour down her face. She knows the camera can’t see her here. She tries to think as he lowers her to the floor. “Be a good girl now.”

She continues crying as he pulls course rope from his backpack and binds her wrists behind her. He pushes her back to the doorframe and removes the backpack and black jacket, the mask in place. He is all muscle, she is no match. He kneels in front of her, sliding the knife down her face, her neck, to her shift. With one fluid motion he slices it open. He leans down and licks the tears from her face. She’s sure they taste of fear. He uses the knife to tap her legs apart, she feels the outside air reach her cunt and she is shocked how wet she is. He is watching her as his knife trails the inside of her thigh and nicks it. She sees him smile under the mask as he leans in to taste it. Her breathing is ragged and she’s sure he can smell her need. She doesn’t mean to but opens her legs wider. “Soon enough” and he rips her to standing by her hair. He drags her back into the blackness of the room and she hears something smash. “Now we won’t be disturbed”, Miranda knows it was the camera. She should be terrified and she is but she is also revealing her arousal by the wet between her thighs. She is pushed to her knees and hears him removing his belt, he snakes it around her neck and pulls it to the point she has to work for her air. “Don’t make a fucking sound”, he orders as he removes the gag. She is silent and he loosens the belt one notch, “good girl”. She smells his cock and instinctively opens her mouth, licking her lips in anticipation. He coats her lips with his precum and without warning grabs her head and pushed his cock down her throat. He fills her mouth and throat and she sucks greedily. He fucks her mouth telling her what a good slut she is for him. Her pussy is gushing and he hears her squirting. Pulling out, he removes the belt and pushes her head to the floor and rubs her face in the puddle she created. “Lick it up”, he demands. When he is satisfied, he pulls her up to standing in front of the desk. “Bend over”, when Miranda doesn’t move fast enough he slams her head down and beats her with the belt. She feels the buckle rip her skin and tiny rivulets of blood trickle down the backs of her thighs. He is holding the side of her face on the desk with one hand while the other beats her. He drops the belt, smearing the blood on her ass with his fingers then finger fucks her cunt hard and fast. She groans and cums violently. He shoves his fingers in her mouth telling her to taste herself. While she is sucking his fingers, he spreads her cheeks and rams his cock into her ass. She cries out and his fingers are in her throat. As he fucks her, he severs the rope and her hands fall to the desk to brace herself. Suddenly, he is out and she is in the air and lands on desk. He grabs her throat and pulls her close as she opens her legs to him. He enters her and lifts her slamming her back into the wall. Her hands grip his strong shoulders and he kisses her roughly. He rips his mouth off of hers and tells her to cum as he explodes inside her. She rakes her nails down his back as wave after wave overtakes her. He bites down on her shoulder as he releases drawing her blood into his mouth. She feels his blood under her nails before it all goes to black.

Miranda woke to a knock at the door. She was sprawled on the floor, sore and dizzy. Her eyes hesitantly opened to see the sunrise over the balcony. The knocking was no louder but increasingly staccato and insistent. She tried to get up, knowing what was expected. Her body betrayed her, used and exhausted she crawled towards the entryway. At the door she managed to get herself onto her knees and open the door. She lowered her eyes, naked, bloody and bruised she was ashamed at what she presented to this next stranger.

Miranda She lifted her head hearing HIS voice. The one she had longed for, the only voice she realized she wanted to hear for the rest of her life. His arms enveloped her and she was lifted to the bed and laid down gently.Darling Miranda, you’re hurt! His eyes met hers and she weakly asked if it was over. It is over love and you have passed.. He stroked her face and moved His perfect hands over her battered body. She felt each part of her come alive under His touch. Her nipples hardened, her pussy flooded and mouth watered to taste Him. Miranda, will you give yourself to me after everything I’ve put you through? She nodded without hesitation. I want to own you completely and entirely, in a way no one ever has before. Miranda looked deeply into His eyes and agreed to be His forever. They made love, passionately. She felt a nurturing and protectiveness from Him that complimented their tender lust.

He ran a bath and cradled her as He placed her in the warm comforting water. After carefully washing her clean of all that had occurred, she found herself alone. Promises of delicious room service had been made and she rose from the bath wrapping herself in a fluffy robe to see what had been procured.

It wasn’t quite the time Miranda, why didn’t you wait for me to fetch you.. His back was to her and the angry scratches she inflicted on Him the previous night before she blacked out were obvious. He turned and she spotted the knives and other sharp instruments, the ropes attached to the bed, His gloved hands. Before she could scream, the gloved hand was over her mouth. It is everything I promised Miranda. You will belong to me forever in a way you never imagined.

Now let’s get started, shall we?