Day Six - Servitude

It was surreal. Surreal and mortifying. That was the only way to describe the morning's activities, Kelli decided. Oh, the day had started out quite well. She'd been especially attentive during Jack's morning blow job, rubbing her tits across his body even as she brought him up to full erection. She'd reacted appropriately chastened when he spanked her pussy and tits with the riding crop, accepting the punishment she deserved as an adulterous wife. She'd served him a healthy breakfast of pancakes and fruit, and spread her legs wide when he poured syrup all over her pussy lips and proceeded to lick it off. And when he'd revealed that they'd be going out of town for the weekend, she'd only flinched a bit. But it had been enough for him to notice.

"You have a problem with my plans?" he'd demanded, standing over her in the shower.

"No. No, sir. No problem. It's just that, well, it's my father's birthday today, and he was expecting to see us."

"Yes, I think it's important for him to see what kind of woman his little girl has turned into," Jack had replied with a grin. "After you get us packed, we'll stop by their place and then head out."

Packing proved to be quite easy, as Jack's clothes fit into the overnighter, while her lingerie and other skimpy outfits easily fit into a single pocket. More ominous was the fact that he had her pack almost all of the sex toys she'd bought over the last five days, including some that she'd thought were just a scare tactic. With everything stowed in the car, they'd returned to the bedroom to select her outfit for the day. Surprisingly, Jack had passed over her box of slut clothes and headed to the regular closet, which she hadn't entered since the whole ordeal had begun.

"Here, put this on," he'd ordered, handing her a knee-length blue and white sundress. Held on with thin straps, and cut square in the front to reveal just a hint of cleavage, it was the perfect dress for a summer picnic. Perfectly innocent. But when she'd reached for a bra to wear under it, he'd pushed her hand away. "No, just the dress. No bra. No panties. You may be Daddy's little girl on top. But underneath you're still my slut. You'll need to remember that." She knew better than to argue.

On the drive to her parent's house, she'd begun to sweat in apprehension. They'd be able to tell that she was naked, she'd been sure of it. They wouldn't be able to see the dark patch between her legs; Jack had made her shave it pencil thin that morning. But she'd have to stay away from any windows; the material was thin enough that they'd be able to discern her outline. And they might notice the unfettered bounce of her tits. Or the distended mounds of her pussy lips! That was another thing. Did she smell like sex? Or was that just left over from the previous night's fuck in the back seat? Would her parents realize that the pungent odor was coming from their daughter's hot, wet slit? One thing was for sure, she'd have to make sure she didn't get turned on in front of them. Whether by luck or design, the seams in the bodice fell far enough away that any time her nipples hardened, any observer would be sure to notice. In fact, even as she'd thought that, she'd looked down to see the hard nubs poking up below the fabric.

Once they were there, Jack had been remarkably well-behaved. She'd been afraid that he'd make jokes the whole time, dropping lewd comments for her parents to hear. But instead he'd just tormented her when her parents were out of the room. Such as when her father had shouted from the kitchen that he had a bottle of non-alcoholic wine that he "hoped they'd know what to do with," and Jack had answered that he "knew the best way to use it," while adding sotto voice to her, "in your cunt." That comment had caused her to blush in fear that someone had heard it, but her parents were blissfully unaware. Even when she'd made the mistake of opening the freezer to get some ice and the cold air had hardened her nipples, nobody had seemed to notice except Jack, who'd grinned the devilish grin he wore so frequently these days. In fact, the way she'd primly sat on the couch to avoid revealing her bare crotch, and carefully bent over to avoid her tits spilling out had probably been noted approvingly by her mother as a way to act more ladylike.

In fact, she would've counted the morning as a relative success if her father hadn't corralled Jack into helping him repair a window in their bedroom. After looking over the problem, they'd determined that Jack would take care of things inside the bedroom, while her father would climb the ladder on the outside, with her mother steadying the ladder. As soon as they heard the back door slam, though, Jack had ordered her to lay on her parents bed and bunch the dress up over her tits. "Now lay there and play with yourself, in your parents bed, until I tell you to stop," he'd ordered her, motioning at her to spread her pussy lips and tweak her tits. "I sure hope that ladder isn't long enough for him to see in here," he'd cruelly added, giving her something more to worry about. And every so often, as they worked at the problem, he'd make a leading comment that filled her with apprehension, like, "Oh, I can't see your mom. Maybe she's on her way up here."