Phil's Site

Kayle knew she was no exceptional beauty even though people did comment on her deeply dimpled, pretty face when she smiled. She tried hard not to be overweight, but those last few excess pounds just wouldn't go away. However, Kayle was a daddy's girl. She loved her daddy more than anything in the world and would do absolutely anything for him.

Kayle remembered the day she became a masochist. She lived with her parents in a big, old Victorian house in the city. Her father, Gary Koch, was third-generation German-American and while he did not speak German fluently, some of the words had filtered down from his grandparents.

One of those words was verboten. It was verboten to go into the attic and that was strictly enforced. Sometimes Kayle swore she heard muffled sounds coming from above her room, and above her room was the attic. Kayle was curious what was so secret that it had to be hidden in the attic, but since the attic door was always locked there was never a chance to explore.

Then one day when she was 10 years old. Kayle noticed that the attic door was not completely closed. She could not deny temptation. She made sure her mother was still in the basement doing the family laundry and crept up the stairs to the attic. It was late; the sun was low in the sky and light streamed through the tall curtained window.

Much of the furniture made no sense to her. A large X-style cross made of thick wood with ropes at the corners. A sawhorse much like the one in her father’s basement shop except much sturdier. It had a broad padded top, with pieces on the sides that looked something like gutters except they were made of padded wood and had straps attached and iron rings bolted to it in odd places. She knew what ropes and whips were, but not why they were in the attic. There were odd leather costumes that seemed to be missing fabric in all the wrong places.

An old-fashioned, curved-leg table with a candelabrum on it caught her attention. On it was a picture album. In the album were pictures of her mother, her father and her Uncle Harry from her mother’s side of the family. In the pictures, they were naked, all of them. Now Kayle knew about the difference between boys and girls and knew a few things about sex; there was sex education class, rumors that floated around school and what she saw on TV, but what she saw in the album made her eyes pop. Terry, her friend at school had shown her his penis, but the penis he had was nothing like the huge cocks on her father and uncle, not even close, and it did not stand up like theirs did. Then there was the way they put it in her mother’s mouth, or anus, or vagina, sometimes both of them using her different openings at the same time. There were pictures of her mother being whipped and tied up with ropes, those very same whips and ropes she had just seen.

The voice made her jump a foot. "What are you doing up here? You know the rule. Put that down, now! Go downstairs. You just wait till your father comes home."

In her life, she had heard that threat more than a few times and when her father got home he would scold her and tell her never to do it again, She always listened to him and heeded his warning until the next time she was caught doing whatever she wasn‘t supposed to be doing. This time it was different, far more different then she could have ever imagined.

After supper, he sat in his easy chair and she stood before him, bracing herself for the scolding that she was sure was coming. "Take your clothes off." That was the last thing she expected to hear from him.

She stood mute, paralyzed. "I am not telling you again … take your clothes off." The worst part was his tone, somehow soft yet commanding.

"Why?" she asked in a shaky voice.

"You were told time and time again that it was verboten to go in the attic. You didn’t listen. You saw things that you were not meant to see, so you leave me no choice but to punish you, to spank you. This is the worst thing you have ever done; you have betrayed our trust in you."

She started to cry. She had never been spanked in her life, but she heard from others that it was something dreadful. She cried and at the same time started to undress. There was that tone of voice of his that told her it would be useless to resist.

It had been years since he last saw her naked. When he saw her last, her nipples were still immature little circles on her chest. Now he was looking at rosy-colored nipples about the size of half dollars. "It is too soon," he told himself. ‘Didn’t girls start puberty at their early teen years?’ Then he remembered the article he read in the newspaper. Girls were starting puberty early and they blamed the hormones pumped into animals to speed up the time it takes to have them ready for market.

He took her over his knee, spanked her hard and she cried even more. He stood her back on her feet, but to her astonishment he was not through with the punishment. Wasn’t her naked humiliation enough? Didn’t her buttocks hurt enough? Did there have to be more? She had no answers.

Her father put a kitchen chair facing his easy chair. He sat her on the kitchen chair and with her mother’s old nylon hose he tied her legs to the chair legs. When she cupped her sex to hide it, he took more nylons and tied her hands to the chair back.

"You dared to invade the privacy of your mother and father; now you will learn what it feels like to have your privacy invaded. You will sit there until it is time for bed," her father said, then settled down in his easy chair and stared at her.

She looked down at her crotch, her legs were spread so far apart that the inner pink of her sex was on display. She tried desperately to close her legs, but they were secured tightly to the chair legs. She wanted to disappear, to be somewhere else, anywhere else. She wished she had never set foot in that attic. She finally got her shuttering breath under control, but the tears still streamed down her cheeks. Her buttocks still hurt.

It was hours later before her crying stopped and the pain in the buttocks started to subside. Her father was reading the newspaper and occasionally he would look at her. No, she realized, not look at her, but look right at her sex. A strange thing started to happen as she felt a dreamy euphoria. The pain from the spanking was somehow flowing from her buttocks to her sex and it tingled. She had the greatest urge to touch it, to rub it, but her hands were still tied behind her.

She looked down at her open slit, wondering what was happening. The inside was no longer light pink, but a rosy red and the outer lips that were usually a shade darker then the surrounding flesh had an unusual rose tint to them and it looked like it was perhaps swollen and she swore she could feel her pulse inside it or was it something else throbbing?

At her usual bedtime her father finally untied her. She begged his forgiveness and promised never to go up in the attic again. She hugged him and kissed him forgetting completely about her nudity. She saw the bulge in the crotch of his pants, but thought nothing about it. She picked up her clothes, went upstairs, brushed her teeth, washed her face, put on her nightie and went to bed.

Kayle lay in her bed and thought about the change in appearance of her sex. Months earlier, one of the girls at school had passed on a tale about a disease that the girl’s older sister had told her about. Like a cold was in the nose and a stomach ache was in the, well, stomach, this disease invaded the crotch. She tried to remember what the girl called it. Kayle only could remember it was initials like VJ or maybe VD. It worried her. The girl said it was incurable, and that sounded terrible. Kayle was scared. She decided to talk to her mother the next morning.

In the morning she got up late and had to dash around so she would not miss the school bus. It was not until after she got home, after her homework was done that she got a chance to talk to her mother. Kayle told her mother about the pain from the spanking turning into a dreamy feeling, how her sex tingled and turned red.

"Do I have V something or another?" she asked at the end of her account of the night before.

"V something?" asked her mother.

"You know, an incurable disease of the pussy." Kayle blanched as she realized she used a naughty word in front of her mother.

"What you have is not a disease although it maybe incurable. It is called masochism. It is like freckles, not a sickness, just an unusual condition where some people derive pleasure from pain. You must have inherited it from me. Everything that happened to your sex is perfectly normal. It’s called sexual arousal."

Kayle sighed when her mother made no mention of the word she inadvertently used and because she wasn‘t ill, she was normal.

The next day after school her mother brought down the photo album from the attic.

"I talked to your father about what you said to me. He told me that since you are so curious I should show this to you. Your father wants you to tell me how you feel about what we are doing in the pictures."

They went through it page by page as Kayle described her feelings about each picture. She asked questions about what they were doing in the pictures and got an education far exceeding what they taught at school. Sex for enjoyment instead of just procreation.

Kayle thought that was wonderful. She asked if she could she get some of the enjoyment too. That would be up to her father, she was told. At the back of the album where Kayle did not get to when she was in the attic she saw pictures of not only her mother, father and uncle, but also her uncle’s new wife, Georgia.

That night over supper, her mother and father discussed Kayle’s masochism and what was to be done about it. Surely she was too young for intercourse, but there were other things that she could be doing, other ways she could enjoy sex. Kayle sat quietly, eating and listening.

Her father said, "I see no reason why a taste of masochism would hurt her, psychologically that is, not that she won’t be hurt physically." He smiled about his correction.

Her mother said, "Kayle took an interest in bondage. She seemed to linger over the pictures of me or Georgia where we were tied up."

"Have you thought about what it would be like to be tied up?" her father asked Kayle.

Kayle knew she blushed a bright red, she felt her face burn because that was exactly what she had thought about while trying to do her homework. "A little bit," she said. She knew she was lying, but it was one of those acceptable white lies. She actually had thought about it quite a bit.

"After the supper dishes are done, I want you to go up, take a shower and get ready for bed. I will have a surprise for you when you come down."

She did as she was told and after she was dried off, she put on her ruffled pink panties and the matching pink nightie that went down to her thighs.

"Are you wearing panties?" he asked when she got back downstairs.

"Yes."

"Well, take them off."

She hesitated for a moment only to realize that after two nights ago, there was nothing he had not seen. The panties were not even down to her knees when the tingling she previously felt in her sex started to come back.

"Stand on the hassock facing me and lift your nightie above your waist. Since you might like bondage, we will start out with something simple." He had a restraint made of three ropes attached to a two-inch steel ring.

Her father centered the ring at the small of her back. Two of the ropes were tied tightly around her waist. The third rope went down through the valley of her buttocks, into and out of the slit of her sex then he tied it to the ropes that were already around her waist. The rope that passed through her sex was tight and hurt a bit, but she found it was a pleasant kind of hurt. She remembered seeing her mother wearing the exact same thing in one of the pictures.

Gary worried about the amount of pleasure he felt while tying his daughter‘s crotch and the enjoyment he got when he touched his daughter’s sex. She's 10 and I’m her dad, he chastised himself and at the same time he looked forward to tying up that little pussy of hers every day.

"There are a few things you need to know. This rope can only be put on or taken off by me or your mother. You are not to touch it; that is verboten unless it is a dire emergency. When I come home from work I expect you to be naked from the waist down and ready to be tied. When I am ready to leave for work I will untie it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir, but how do I pee?" As soon as she said it she realized how immature she must sound.

"You will go to your mother and ask to be untied, telling her why. Now let’s go see what nighties you have."

The three of them sorted through what she had and her father found nothing appropriate until they went through a bundle of clothes that was stored in the basement that was destined for the resale shop. In there they found a couple of nighties Kayle had outgrown. Kayle put one on. It was so short it ended at the top of her pubis.

"Perfect," her father said.

So for the next two weeks, Kayle waited for her father to come home to tie the ropes around her waist and through her crotch. It made her sex tingle and she was very conscious of it embedded in her sex and pushing against her anus. She was also happy that her father was paying more attention to her even if his look was mainly directed at her sex.

At the end of the second week, her father said, "I’m glad that you have taken so well to being tied with the rope that I want to offer you three choices. First, you can go back to the old way and start wearing panties instead of the rope; second you can continue as you are now, or third, we can escalate the playtime."

"What does es-ca-late mean, Daddy?"

"That means we will add more things to what you have to do."

"Like what?"

"Well, I notice that while your nightie is short enough to let me see the rope you wear it is also too tight on you. So instead of wearing the nightie why not just make you go around naked. Instead of waiting for me to come home, you will undress as soon as you come home and dress when it is time to go back to school. On weekends you won’t dress at all unless we go out. All you will wear is the rope. Plus I know your aunt and uncle would love to see you tied up like that."

"I would be naked in front of them?"

"I think they would love to see that you are carrying on the family tradition. So you will be naked and tied when I get home. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

Two weeks went by and Kayle had lived up to her end of the bargain, liking all the attention she was getting. She was the type of girl who thrived upon attention. She felt she could never get enough.

"Are you ready to escalate even further?" he asked as she stood naked in front of him.

"What do you plan?"

"It’s a surprise. You will have to wait a bit. OK?"

"I guess so," she said, disappointed that she had to wait.

• Kayle Chapter 2