Ch.1 : Slave-Daddy
"Oh, you've been a very bad Daddy, haven't you?" I smiled to myself as
I looked through the recent sites list in the web browser.
I was sitting at my father's desk, in his study, and I hadn't meant to
snoop, I was just checking my email, but I'd happened upon the
favorites list as I waited for the web page to load. And there it was,
"Bound for Glory" neatly bookmarked, and so I'd instantly become more
interested in what my dad was doing with his spare time.
It was an odd feeling, seeing pictures of myself naked on my own
father's computer.
He hadn't mentioned anything, of course, why would he? This was a
great secret, first mine alone, and now apparently ours. Daddy
wouldn't have told anyone, certainly not my mom or my brother. How
would a man break the news that his 24 year old daughter was a
professional Dominatrix?
And that really was the least of it.
My bisexuality was obvious. I was also a prostitute, if you wanted to
get technical about it. A porn actress? That too, at least in the
sense that I had no qualms about appearing in videos available on the
website. I'd graduated from college and found that I could make better
money indulging my personal desires than I could working in my so-
called chosen profession of journalism. I was attractive, outgoing,
and a total bitch...The perfect combination for punishing bad boys and
girls at three hundred dollars an hour.
Bad Daddies too.
I'd formed a production company, web based and popular, called Bound
for Glory and with three other girls I'd met in college, we did very
well for ourselves. Well enough with photo-sets and downloadable
movies that I probably could have given up the scenes, the actual
prostitution, but in truth I enjoyed that aspect of it. That was the
best part for me, being worshipped by strangers, being paid to abuse
men and women and exercise power of them. It was intoxicating and
addictive and I was very good at it.
My dad seemed to like the lesbian scenes the most, as he had all of
the videos I'd done with Katrina, my personal submissive and one of
the girls I'd formed BFG with. We'd roomed together in college and
gotten along very well, so well that I'd collared her, in the
traditional sense. Trina was very much like my wife, if you wanted to
imagine our relationship in such vanilla terms, and we'd done a great
many videos and photosets together.
I'd had thoughts of bringing the girl with me on my trip home, to
'come out' with my family and seek their approval. That I hadn't was
only due to Trina's reluctance, not my own, and while I might have
demanded it of her to join me, I was content to wait. I'd taken her
unwilling into many things that she'd ultimately enjoyed, but this
would not be one of them. My disappointment was tempered by trust that
was so vital to our relationship. It would happen soon enough.
My father at least knew about part of it anyway. He'd seen me,
obviously, not only playing the BDSM games for profit, but having sex
with Trina, and others, men and women who modeled for our website. We
had a semi-open relationship, Katrina and I, which most simply meant I
enjoyed sex with whomever I desired, but she served only me. She liked
that, we both did, and it increased my own pleasure when Trina watched
me with someone else.
I'd hidden it well, I thought, but of course once you're on the
internet, you're everywhere and my father hadn't necessarily been
looking only for me. One look at his not-so-well hidden computer files
told me how long he'd been collecting BDSM stories and photos. He'd
found me only because of his fetish, I thought, and my only real
question was whether he was Dom or sub. That wasn't too hard to figure
out though, not with all the recently opened files and web sites
dedicated to FemDom on his computer.
So, in light of this discovery, I did what any good Domme would do...I
emailed him. I gave my father very explicit instructions, so that
there could be no mistaking what I was, or what I was expecting of
him. It was a test, I suppose, to see how far my dad would be willing
to go; to find the extent of his perversions...And mine. I always
enjoyed testing the limits, my own and others'.
I'd never considered incest before, and my father had certainly never
abused me. My need to dominate hadn't grown from anything like that,
it was just me, and any psychological analysis would have been wasted
trying to determine why. This would be something new for me, and
perhaps for him as well, but I had no crystal ball into the man's
heart. He could have fantasized about me for years, and I suddenly
found myself hoping he had.
Wouldn't that be something, I smiled to myself. The idea that my own
parent had lusted after me secretly, and well enough so I'd never
suspected gave me a warmth deep in my stomach. It didn't occur to me
that such desires might be wrong, I wasn't wired that way. There were
very few things I'd found sexually that hadn't pleased me in one form
or another, and incest would be little different.
It made my nipples hard and my clit ache, wanting to know my father's
thoughts, and I turned off his computer confident that I would have my
answers soon enough.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"So, what is it you do in Las Vegas, Susan?" My mom was asking me.
We were sitting at the dinner table, my parents and I, along with my
brother James and his recently pregnant wife Cheryl. She wasn't
showing yet, but she had that glow and I was happy for the woman.
Happy for both of them; we were a very close family and this was our
first reunion in over two years.
"I work for a production company." I glanced at her and then looked at
my dad openly, just to see his reaction. But he hid his thoughts well
and returned my gaze with a friendly smile.
"What's that?" Cheryl asked.
"Part of the entertainment industry." I nodded, as if that explained
anything. "It's small, but growing."
"Entertainment, oh that's nice." Mom nodded. She was a young forty-
something, still very attractive even after raising two kids. A good
woman too, very practical with boundless common sense, and she'd been
my role model growing up; all of my confidence came from her.
"Is that like movies or something?" Jim asked, he was my younger
brother, all of 22 and just out of college. He worked as an assistant
station manager for one of the local radio stations.
"Yeah, movies mostly, some personalized services for clients who can
afford it." I smiled. "We're rather specialized, oriented towards
smaller, more exclusive markets."
"Is there money in that?" My dad asked, seemingly quite serious.
"Pretty good, dad." I grinned at him. "We do all right."
"It has to be better than working in radio." My brother laughed.
"Well, when you think about your IPO let me take a look at your
books." My dad gave me a little grin.
"You can look at anything you want, Daddy." I laughed, and it was a
terrible tease, but I couldn't resist. "You know where to find me."
"I guess I do." He grunted, but his eyes betrayed nothing and I began
to understand how he'd hid his passion for me, assuming he'd had any.
I could detect nothing out of the ordinary.
"Maybe we'll come down there sometime and visit you." My mom smiled at
me. "You can show us what it is you do, Susan."
"Uh..." I had to giggle at that, a small nervous one and I was
nodding.
"Say, this roast is really good tonight." My dad said, changing the
subject without batting an eye. It was exactly the sort of thing he'd
say and it seemed out of place not at all. I had to admire his skill
at deflecting the attention away from my business activities.
"It is good, isn't it?" Mom nodded. "I got it down at that new
supermarket..."
"The Bartlett's?" Cheryl leaned forward a little. "I do all my
shopping there now."
My brother and dad engaged themselves with talk about the baseball
season, so that I sat there smiling between the two conversations and
eating my dinner slowly. It was nice, being home again, and very nice
sitting across from my father, who acted for all the world like he had
no idea who or what I really was.
That was what amazed me most, I suppose. And I imagine he may have
thought the same about me, since I'd spoken vaguely, but without
hesitation about my job. I hadn't lied about it either, as he well
knew, I'd just kept it simple and that was good enough.
Cheryl and I helped my mom clean up after dinner and I smiled at my
dad as I picked up his plate.
"You might want to check your email, daddy." I told him. "You had a
little new mail thing when I was checking mine."
"I did?" He gave a little grunt of puzzlement. "I didn't even know I
had a new mail thing."
My brother chuckled at my dad's smile and I just shrugged. "Well,
maybe it was something else. Are you done with your water?"
"Yeah, honey. Thank you." He smiled at me. "I guess I'll check my
email."
I kissed his cheek, wondering what he'd think when he saw my note.
My dad was a good looking man, as we all were in a wholesome Americana
way. Tall and lean, he kept himself in shape, which wasn't easy for an
investment banker. He spent his days behind a desk, talking on the
phone, but he still found time tennis and golf on the weekends, and
that was enough to keep him healthy. I'd inherited his black hair and
blue eyes, my mother and brother being more brown in both respects.
And we were tall, all of us, my dad and brother over six feet, mom and
me just a few inches shy of that.
After dinner we sat in the living room, watching old videos, home
movies of my brother and me as children. We laughed and smiled, sipped
our wine and generally enjoyed a pleasant evening of bonding before my
brother took his wife home. I gave them hugs and kisses, pressing my
hand to Cheryl's soft tummy, imagining that I might feel my niece or
nephew growing inside her, but it was too soon for that.
If my father had looked at his email, and I was sure he had, the only
sign of it was a bit of distraction, some small quick glances at me
when he thought I wasn't looking. It was a fun game and I was quite
enjoying myself as I'd made it a point to sit close to him on the
sofa, between him and my mother. For the most part everything seemed
perfectly normal and if I hadn't known better it would have been hard
to pick up on my father's reaction.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
And just before ten we retired for the evening, or at least part of
it. My father and I had an appointment at midnight, if he was willing
to keep it.
I had some butterflies, I'll admit. I was nervous as I prepared myself
with what little I had to work with. Obviously I hadn't brought much
in the way of fetish gear, clothing or toys, but those things are just
tools and not essential by any means. The reality of BDSM resides in
our hearts and minds, not in anything external, and if my dad didn't
have a true understanding of that yet, I'd be more than happy to teach
him.
I made my face up carefully, sitting at my vanity in what was still my
bedroom. I'd moved out six years before, but it was clean and neat and
just the way I'd left it. That room would always be mine and there was
no place else in the world I felt more safe or comfortable.
After my bath I'd pinned my long black hair up, pulling it from my
forehead and back into a chignon above my neck. I darkened my eyes,
plucked my eyebrows and painted my lips crimson. I was very beautiful
then, and imposing to most people who didn't know me except by
appearance, and I wondered how attractive my father would find me.
My costume would be simple enough. A black lace bra, with demi-cups
that left my tawny nipples exposed. They'd always been lightly
colored, too light for my taste, and so I rouged them with my blush.
It was provocative I thought, and very pleasing to have hard ruby
nipples perched upon my firm breasts. I wore matching panties, rich
with lace and French cut high around my hips. They were black and
sheer and my freshly shaven sex was clearly exposed. On my feet I wore
patent leather slings with two inch heels and closed toes, wishing I'd
brought just one decent pair of boots with me.
Hardly dramatic, true, but it would work well enough for our
improvised purposes, I thought. And my body, barely contained now,
would be a costume all its own. My skin was light and smooth, without
blemish or scar, and my muscles were defined without being vulgar. It
was a good body and I'd been lucky with my genes, and with my work
ethic as I did enjoy taking care of myself. I was worthy of worship in
that body, as so many people had eagerly demonstrated over the past
few years and I had no shame in exposing it. Even to my father.
I was in his study early, having chosen that room because it was
remote from the rest of the house. My mother would be sleeping anyway,
and the room was large enough and comfortable enough that it would
suit us well. I stood at the window, in the shadows with only a single
table lamp illuminating the desk. I had my back to the open door and I
waited patiently.
"Ahem..." My father cleared his throat gently and I turned around,
slowly and deliberately, holding my breath.
This was the moment of truth and it filled me with nervous energy.
My father was standing there in his bathrobe, just inside the study,
and he narrowed his eyes, picking me out of the gloom in which I
stood.
"Susan?" He asked tentatively.
"Close the door." I told him and I waited while he did so. "Lock it."
"Lock it?" He rubbed his jaw, but did as I told him, pushing the
button in on the doorknob with a loud click. It was very quiet in that
house.
"Take off your bathrobe, and those slippers." I commanded him softly.
"I want you undressed completely."
"Uh...I don't think..."
"Now!" I said sharply and I stepped forward so that he could see me
clearly. I was not smiling at him and he swallowed hard, blinking
rapidly as he took in my body, my underwear and shoes.
"Alright." He nodded slowly and began untying his bathrobe.
"You will call me Mistress while we are in this room, do you
understand that, slave?" I stared at him.
"Yes..." He was shrugging off his bathrobe. "...Mistress."
He was naked a moment later, completely, and it was the first time I
could recall seeing him that way, although as a child, as a toddler,
I'd undoubtedly been around him while he was undressed. Never as an
adolescent though, as a teenage girl growing up, he was always careful
and modest around me.
I walked closer while my father stood there and he watched me, but
only for a few seconds at a time, and then he would close his eyes. He
was embarrassed by his nakedness, by my own appearance, by the
circumstances perhaps. I'd found out his secrets and perhaps he'd
dreamt of this moment, or perhaps not. It mattered very little; we
were there now.
His cock was soft, and average sized. He had a little fat on his hips,
but not much. My dad's body was firm and I enjoyed seeing him like
that. He was smooth as well, with very little body hair.
"What are you doing?" He finally asked me in his soft voice.
"Mistress?" I prompted him gently, standing behind my father now.
"Uh, what are we doing, Mistress?" He repeated, but changing the
question just a little to include himself and I took that as a
promising sign.
"We are going to play a little game, slave." I smiled behind his back.
"A little Father-Daughter bonding game, does that sound like fun?"
"Susan, I..." He started to protest.
SLAP!!
I spanked his ass hard with my palm so that he jerked and turned his
head quickly to stare at me.
"Play with your cock." I told him, rubbing my father's warm firm
buttock where I'd slapped him. "Don't speak to me. In my presence your
penis will be hard, always. If it goes soft, or if you cum without
permission, I'll punish it."
My father coughed lightly and slowly reached for his cock, the same
one that had put me in my mother's womb some 25 years before. He
stroked it for me, doing just as I'd instructed while I moved around
him, watching him flush with humiliation even as his penis grew long
and hard.
"You like this, don't you, Daddy?" I whispered, teasing him. "You like
looking at me, don't you?"
I waited patiently the several heartbeats it took before he nodded his
head slowly.
"Yes Mistress."
"How long have you wanted me, hmmm?" I dragged my fingernails across
his shoulder.
"I don't..."
SLAP!!
I spanked him again, in the same place and so hard it stung my hand,
leaving a large red mark on his white skin.
"Answer the question, slave." I commanded him. "How long have you
wanted to see me like this? Open your eyes!"
I moved back in front of him, posing with my hard red nipples jutting
up from my proud breasts and my hard little clit throbbing and plain
in my panties.
"Since you...You were small...Mistress." My dad answered, breathing
heavily now and he was just squeezing his prick, not stroking himself
at all lest he cum.
"How small, daddy?" I licked my lips, staring into his eyes. "How old
was I when you first thought about fucking me?"
"Uh..." He swallowed thickly. "...fourteen...or fifteen...maybe...Mistress."
"Oh, you're a bad daddy aren't you, slave?" I chuckled and he nodded.
"What's that? I can't hear you."
"Y-Yes, Mistress."
"Yes what?" I tilted my head.
"Yes, I'm a bad daddy." He closed his eyes again and I slapped his
cock hard, so that it swung violently.
"Ahhh!" He drew a sharp breath, but I'd merely surprised him.
I had no intention of hurting the man, I rarely hurt anyone actually,
the mere threat of pain was generally much more effective for new
submissives. I would need to test him though, to find his tolerance if
only for an impromptu yardstick. This was the subtle art of
negotiation and I would be clever and cautious and my father would
enjoy it. That was my secret promise, the one he didn't need to hear
from my lips.
"Keep your eyes open when you speak to me." I commanded him.
"Yes Mistress." He agreed quickly, moving his hands to cover his
penis.
SLAP!!
I spanked him again, as hard as I had the last time, and he winced.
"Are you ashamed of your penis?"
"N-No Mistress."
"Then why are you trying to hide it from me?" I chuckled. "Do you
think I haven't seen one before?"
"I...No, Mistress." My dad moved his hands away from his cock. It was
dark now, straining with excitement and I wasn't doing anything he
didn't want me to.
"I think I should punish you." I put a finger to my lips. "Since this
is our first time, I'll give a choice. Should I punish your cock?"
"N-No Mistress."
"Shhh...I'm not done yet." I smiled at him. "If you interrupt me again
I'll have to make the choice myself."
My father nodded slowly, blinking at me because he did so dearly want
to close his eyes. This was punishment already, being naked in front
of me, confessing his fantasies while I watched him play with his
cock. But it was a pleasure too and we both knew it.
"Now, shall I punish your cock...Or your balls, slave?" I asked him,
slapping at his hands so I could see his erection jutting from the
nest of dark pubic hair around it.
"Punish my..." He shook his head for a second, not wanting to choose.
"Should I punish both?" I smiled at him.
"N-No...My balls, Mistress." He said quickly. "Punish my balls."
"Mmmm...." I nodded and walked behind him once more. "Do you have bad
balls, Slave-Daddy?"
I reached down, pushing his thighs apart with my hand so I could grasp
his heavy balls in their soft wrinkled sack. I gave them a little
squeeze, not too hard, but enough to put my father on his toes.
"Yessss..." He hissed and I pushed between his shoulders with my left
hand, tugging his balls back with my right, so that my dad bent over
quickly for me.
"I think you do too, Slave-Daddy." I was pulling his scrotum tight and
his skin grew damp with sweat even as I watched. "They give you bad
thoughts, don't they? Make you want to do things to me..."
"Yes Mistress." He had his hands on his knees and he flexed his legs a
little, pushing his hips back to ease the tension on his balls.
"Do you want to fuck me, Slave-Daddy?" I squeezed his balls hard,
feeling the firm orbs within his sack being compressed in my fist.
"Ooooh...ow...ahhh..." He was breathing hard, but carefully, as if the
smallest movement of any part of him only increased the pain.
"It makes you dizzy, doesn't it?" I chuckled. "A little nauseas maybe?
I could crush your balls right now, Slave-Daddy. I could make them
pop, should I do that?"
I squeezed harder and pulled back a little more so that my father was
trembling with a combination of fear and excitement such as he'd never
experienced before.
"No...P-Please...Mistress..." He was groaning and I opened my hand slightly,
giving him a little relief from the pain.
"Is your cock still hard, Slave-Daddy?" I asked.
"Yes, Mistress." He swallowed and glanced at me over his back and I
could see his face was red and his eyes moist. I'd been squeezing his
balls very hard near the end.
"That's good." I let his balls go completely. "You really do love me,
don't you?"
"Yessss...I do, Mistress." He nodded.
"A lot of men go soft when they get squeezed like that, even some of
the men who like it." I stroked my dad's back gently. "But you're
still hard as a rock, Slave-Daddy."
"Yes Mistress." He actually smiled, feeling some small bit of pride I
imagine, and I hadn't lied in any of that.
"So you deserve a reward, I think." I moved around him once more,
lifting him slowly so that my dad would stand up straight.
I reached down to grasp his penis, sliding my hand along the heavy
shaft. He was hot and hard and thick under my fingers and I felt a
perverse thrill touching him that way, even more so than when I'd held
his balls. I was excited and while I'd always intended our first scene
to be short, it was difficult to imagine letting him go so easily.
"Do you want to cum, Slave-Daddy?" I whispered, looking into his
handsome face and seeing nothing but desire there.
"Yes Mistress, God yes." He replied breathlessly.
"Whose cock is this?" I asked him.
"Yours Mistress." He answered without hesitation.
"What about your wife, Slave-Daddy? What about my mother?"
"I don't..." He looked confused, as if he'd forgotten about her and I
saw guilt in his soft blue eyes.
"You don't what?" I jerked him off slowly. "Love her? Honor her?"
"No, Mistress...I...Yes, I do, but..."
"But what, Slave-Daddy?" I rubbed the head of his penis with my thumb,
feeling the wetness there, his precum spilling from the tip of his
glans.
"I want you, Mistress." He closed his eyes.
"Have you fucked other women?" I wanted to know. "Have you cheated on
her? Don't lie to me, Slave-Daddy, or I'll know."
"Once." He nodded. "It was...It was a long time ago."
"Does she know?"
"Yes, Mistress." My dad looked smaller as he said that.
"And now you want to do it again." I shook my head. "With your own
daughter, no less."
"Yes...Mistress." My father was stiff now, his body rigid as his orgasm
grew closer.
"Get down, on your knees...On the floor..." I told him suddenly, pushing
my dad down as I released his cock. "On your belly, Slave-Daddy..."
"Yes...Yes...Mistress..." He moved quickly, doing exactly what I was
telling him to do. He got on the carpet of his study and I put my left
shoe close to his face.
"Lick my shoe; clean it with your filthy tongue." I demanded. "You can
fuck the floor...Do it, Slave-Daddy! Make yourself cum while you lick my
shoe."
I watched my dad's prone form beneath me. He was lifting his hips, his
ass, and pushing his pelvis against the rough carpeting beneath him,
humping the floor as I'd instructed. It looked ridiculous and obscene
and his body was pink with humiliation, but he kept his mouth on my
shoe. His tongue lapping along the leather of my sling and when I
lifted my foot off the floor he didn't hesitate to clean the bottom.
"The other one..." I pulled my left foot back and presented him with
the right. "If you don't cum before you get this shoe clean I'm going
to whip your cock. Do you understand me, Slave-Daddy?"
"Yes...Mistress." He gave me a small nod, grinding his body against the
carpet harder now.
He licked my shoe carefully and I didn't know if he enjoyed foot
worship or not, but I did. I really had very little to go on with my
dad, so far as what he wanted, but I suspected he wanted whatever I
was willing to make him do. I was as much his fantasy as any BDSM
tricks or treats, so just my presence was making it good for him.
"You'd better cum soon, Slave-Daddy." I teased him. "I think that shoe
is almost finished."
"Yesss...yes Mistress..." He was moving faster and his fingers were
digging into the carpet around me.
He was prostrate before me, on his belly, working his cock towards
orgasm just for me and I pulled my foot away, standing there with my
arms crossed. I wanted to touch myself, to rub my slit and play with
my hard little clit. There was an orgasm of my own lurking in the
humid folds of my sex, but I waited. I had a lot of patience.
"Ohhh! Mistresss...." My father reached his orgasm finally, gasping as
he thrust his cock against the rough fabric beneath him and I knew he
was shooting his sperm uselessly onto the floor.
"Good, Slave-Daddy, very good." I smiled down at him, into his
sweating red face. "I'm leaving you now, going to my room and into my
bed alone."
"Yes Mistress." He nodded.
"In the morning, I want you to tell your wife what we did tonight."
"W-What?"
"You'll tell her everything, do you understand me, Slave-Daddy?"
"Mistress...I...We can't..."
"You'll tell her that you had a dream, and in that dream this is what
happened." I stared down at him. "If you don't do it, Slave-Daddy, I
will."
"Yes Mistress." He rubbed his forehead.
"Except I won't tell her it was a just dream." I nodded seriously.
"And if that happens, we'll never do this again. Tell me you
understand."
"I...I understand Mistress." My father nodded with me.
"Good." I smiled tightly. "Now clean up your mess. I'll be waiting for
you here this same time tomorrow."
"Yes Mistress...I'll be here..." My dad promised needlessly as I walked to
the door and left him there on his stomach.