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From: Arnold Sloan <Nowere@at.all>
Date: Sat, 24 Nov 2007 10:58:12 -0500
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage.stories,alt.sex.stories.bondage,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.erotic
Subject: STORY - Bitch-Slave Daughter: M/f, BDSM
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It was bad enough Destiny had to return home, broke and jobless. But
her strict father had become far worse since she'd left, and was now
heavily into bondage and discipline. And he thought his loser
daughter would make a perfect subject.
Destiny moaned more loudly now, with no one to hear her, and
raised her head, staring up at the ceiling, at her wrists, then down
the long - long length of her body which hung below.
It a was very strange feeling. Her chest was heaving, and she was
flushed and exhausted from the immense climax she had just
experienced, one more powerful and extended than anything she'd ever
felt before. And now, shockingly, excitingly, she hung by her wrists.
She was actually hanging naked from her wrists! For her thong had
dropped off her ankles as she'd been raised off the floor.
Her legs seemed like dead weight, far, far below, just hanging
there limp and useless. Her arms ached, her wrists burned, and her
shoulders throbbed and strained.
It took her some minutes to calm down, for her body to cool down,
for the tired languor which the orgasm produced to wear off and leave
her - aching. Her scattered wits fit themselves slowly back together
and she could think almost clearly. Almost. Her body continued to
thrum with a low sexual heat as she hung there, twisting very slowly
on the chain, and she began to wonder what more her father would do
to her.
Her insides ached from the harsh thrusting of the whip handle,
and she quivered, wondering when he would substitute his cock, when
he would rape her. She felt a trembling run through her body at the
thought, anticipation mixed with wretched heat.
It figured he would be into this kind of thing, she thought,
arrogant, cruel disciplinarian that he was.
God! She was hanging naked by her wrists! And he had whipped her!
God! It was unbelievable!
She lifted one foot, then the other, twisting slowly like a fish
on a line. How long was he going to leave her like this? She looked
at herself in the mirror and felt a swelling pride, a sexual
arrogance.
She looked so fucking hot! Why had she never gotten into this before?
The idea had always intrigued her, always excited her. She'd just
never found a man she would trust to tie her up and - and have his
waywith her. At least, not one who was interested in doing anything
more inventive than sinking his cock into her.
She looked down at her breast and felt a little ripple of shock
as she noted the teeth marks which framed her nipple, a nipple which
still throbbed hotly, rigid with excitement.
Should she call out to him, yell, scream? The idea of screaming
aroused her, for some reason. But no, she wouldn't give him the
satisfaction. And if she did he would probably just come down and -
and whip her - again.
He had whipped her! Whipped her! She was still amazed.
And an hour later it was still somewhat amazing, but she was so
exhausted it didn't seem to matter as much. Her arms and wrists were
numb, and her shoulder burned like fire.
Daddy!" she called out loud. "Daddy!
She raised her voice, crying out as loud as she could. "Daddy!
Daddy! Let me down!"
But an hour later she still hung there alone, moaning, panting,
dripping sweat, breathing in very short, very shallow gasps.
And finally there he was, standing before her. No, now sitting,
for he'd drawn up a chair and sat leisurely back in it to look at
her.
"L-Let me down," she moaned.
"I don't know why I didn't think of it before," he said. "You
obviously can't look after yourself. You're not good for anything.
You need to be looked after. And why should anyone bother to do that,
especially when you're such a sulky, bad-tempered little bitch? I bet
you've had plenty of boyfriends who have dumped you, pretty ass or
not, unable to stand you any longer."
That was true, but it angered her to hear it.
"Let me doooown," she groaned.
"How are you in the sack?" he asked.
Exhausted or not, hanging naked or not, it seemed incredible to
her he had asked that, her own father. She stared at him in
disbelief.
"Well? Are you any good? Or do you need to be taught how to
please a man, sexually."
"N-None of your b-business," she panted. And then a sneer. "I bet
you want to find out."
He stroked his chin with his hand. "No matter. You can be taught.
You have the right equipment and a very pretty face."
"I-Is daddy going to teach his little girl?" she panted in a
taunting little girl voice.
"Oh I'm going to teach you a thing or two, girl," he said, his
voice and expression hardening. "I'm going to teach you enough that
someone will want you around, even if they keep you in a cage."
She blinked, startled at the words as he stood up and moved to
stand next to her. He combed his fingers through her hair and she
tried to jerk her head away, but then he closed them and jerked her
head up and back tightly and she gasped and shuddered.
"You're fucking useless for almost anything," he said. "And you
have no desire to learn. But men will pay for a body and face like
yours."
"Y-You think you c-can make me a prostitute!" she gasped.
"Oh no. Even that requires work. No, I'm thinking of something
much older, and much safer. Believe it or not, daughter, I have no
desire to see you become a drug addicted, disease infested, old
before your time whore walking a street corner."
He leaned in further, his lips next to her ear. "I will make you
a slave."
Slave. The word shocked her. It rang through her mind and made
her body spasm weakly. Slave? Slave!? He was crazy! Insane! She
almost laughed, would have except she was so exhausted. A slave!?
What a freak he was!
"A slave has only to obey," he said. "She does not need to think
at all. She is given very simple tasks, usually involving pleasuring
men and women with her body. I wager you can learn to do that easily
enough."
"You think I'm going to be your sex slave?" she demanded,
laughing weakly.
"Not mine. No. After you're trained I will find you a decent
master, a man with money and means who will keep you properly safe."
"Y-you're c-c-crazy," she panted.
"Think about it, you little slut," he growled, twisting his
fingers in her hair until she cried out. "Your master will do
everything, all the thinking, all the effort. All you'll need to do
is look pretty and perform sexually. Hell, if I find one of those
Arab princes to buy you you can sit around his harem, swimming and
watching TV. Sounds like just the life for you."
He released her hair and she looked sullenly at him.
"It's all you're good for anyway," he said.
She tried to look defiant, but his words struck her deep. She
knew she was useless, knew she had no skills, no learning, and no
drive or motivation. Her friends had often made fun of her in that
way. Her teachers had despaired of it long ago. She was good for
nothing, she thought bitterly. He was right. She could be some rich
man's fuck toy and that was about it.
"Fuck you," she said, eyes fluttering to fight back tears.
A harsh hand cracked across her cheek, flinging her head back and
setting her ear ringing and her body swinging. She moaned and worked
her cheek.
"Discipline is what you need," he said.
"Fine," she said dully; hopeless, miserable, uncaring. "Do
whatever you fucking want. Kill me if you want to."
Now tears did start to fill her eyes.
"I have no intention of causing you harm," he said. "I am not an
uncaring brute. I want only what is best for you. And this would
appear to be the best of a very few choices left to you."
So I'll be a fucking sex slave," she said dully. "Sure. Why not.
Another slap to her face, this time the other cheek, and she
cried out, twisting weakly on the end of the chain.
"You think you're capable of being a sex slave right now? You
think any wealthy man would pay much for you the way you are? You're
sadly mistaken, girl. You aren't good enough to be a slave yet. But
you will be. The training isn't pleasant, but for once in your life
it is training you will absorb fully and completely. For pain is a
marvelous teacher."
"Then do it!" she cried, tears dropping onto her chest now. "Go
ahead! Make me a sex slave! Sell me to a fucking Arab!
Anger leant her strength, and she glowered at him furiously. "Do
it!" she snarled. Do it!
He nodded slowly, and they stared at each other.
"From this day on you have no father," he said, and the words
struck her deep inside, a part of her she hadn't even known she had.
She felt oddly numbed by them, stricken.
"You will never again address me as dad or daddy or father. I am
not your father and you are no daughter of mine. Do you understand
me?" he demanded, his voice hard and cruel.
She dropped her eyes, feeling a strange sense of finality,
wanting to change it, but wondering why. God knew he had never been
much of a father to her, never been the kind to hug or hold her or
show any sign of affection. Why should she miss him, miss having a
father, when she'd never really had one at all? And she felt a sense
of anger over that, and defiance, though her mind was spinning.
Another slap rang her ear, brought the taste of blood to her
mouth as she groaned in pain.
"Did you understand me?" he snarled.
"Yes!" she shouted, more tears spilling from her eyes, tears of
anger and resentment.
"Henceforth you will address me as master. You will obey orders,
and you will respond to instructions promptly. You will not speak -
ever - for any reason, unless you are giving permission. Is that
understood?"
She nodded her head weakly, then cried out at another slap which
sent her head spinning to one side, and her body following.
"When you are addressed you will respond with `yes, master' or
`no, master'. Is that clear?"
"Y-yes... m-master," she groaned.
"You have no father. You are an orphan. Now I take your name from
you, as well. Destiny was the name of someone I once had hopes for,
once thought might amount to something. It is clearly not the name
for a spineless, weak, nothing like you. Perhaps some day you will
earn a name from whomever buys you. For now you are simply a slave, a
nameless slave."
Again the words struck something inside her, and again she felt a
flood of moisture to her eyes, felt tears spilling down onto her
naked chest. It was so unfair, so horribly unfair! And yet did she
really deserve better? Wasn't he right? Hadn't she wasted herself on
nothing all these years? Little wonder he thought she was a
completely failure. She thought she was a miserable failure, herself.
"You have no father. You have no name. And you have no body. A
slave owns nothing. A slave has no choices to make, no decisions to
make. A slave does exactly as she is told. And a slave's body belongs
to her master. She has no more say in its use than a dog or a cow or
a horse does. Their owners make those decisions."
He ran a hand lightly up her body, circling her nipple.
"A dog might be shaved, might have ridiculous bits of clothe
fitted to it, might be muzzled or neutered. It has no say in any of
it. It will be washed when its master says. It will be allowed to go
to the bathroom when its master decides. If its master chooses to
breed the dog, then that will be done, as well."
He yanked on her hair and she screamed as her head was pulled
straight back.
"Do you understand, slave?" he demanded. "Do you understand that
all choices, all decisions are removed from you? You have no body.
This flesh belongs to me to do with as I choose, and it will then
belong to someone else, whomever I give or sell you to."
He released her hair and she moaned weakly, her body swaying as
he walked away from her, over to the wall. He turned the crank, and
her body began to lower, her trembling toes finally finding purchase,
then the balls of her feet at last, then her entire feet, heels
pressing on the cool, but ever so welcome stone. The tension and
pressure was finally released from her wrists and arms and shoulders,
and she groaned with relief.
Her father was there again, and he ran his big hands up her
belly, up her chest beneath her breasts, lifting them and squeezing
them softly.
"Who do owns these tits?" he demanded.
Blinking, panting, Destiny stared at his hands on her breasts,
then up at him.
"I asked a question, slave. When a slave is asked a question, a
slave answers or is punished."
"I-I - you?" she gulped, a little dazed.
He squeezed his fingers more tightly and she gasped in pain.
"You master," he growled.
You, master!
He released her breasts, then caught her nipples, still swollen
and rigid, despite her exhaustion and unhappiness. One was moist with
a tear which had trickled across it. He pinched his fingers against
them and twisted, pulling, stretching them up and forward so that
Destiny was forced, gasping and whimpering, onto her toes.
Who owns these nipples, slave?
"You, master!" she gasped.
He released them, and his right hand slid between her thighs,
cupping and palming her sex.
Who owns this pussy, slave?
"Y-You, master!" she gulped.
He moved slowly around behind her, his fingers tracing her ribs,
then the length of her spine, and then opening wide to grasp her soft
bottom and squeeze her buttocks.
Who owns this ass, slave girl?
"Y-you do, master," Destiny moaned.
Around in front of her again, his fingers running over her
throat, tracing her lips, then sliding inside, two of them, so that
her tongue drew back.
"Who owns this mouth, slave?" he said in a low, intense voice.
"You do - master," she replied, her lips having difficulty around
his fingers, her tongue moving awkwardly.
"Lick, slave," he said, eyes boring into her.
Her tongue licked at his fingers as her eyes blinked and
fluttered.
"Suck, slave," he said starkly.
Her stomach twisted, and she closed her lips, sucking on her
father's fingers, two of them, sliding slowly in and out, in and out,
in and out as she sucked and licked. Then he eased them back, moving
around her, the fingers of his other hand tracing her ribs again,
moving up and down her spine.
And then a warm, wet finger pushed against her rectum, and her
eyes went wide as she felt it rub lightly, then prod at her, dipping
just within, pulling out, then pushing up into her. She gasped as a
long finger pushed and squirmed up into her rectum, her face heating.
Who owns this tight little hole, slave?
She gulped and swallowed anxiously. "Y-You do, M-Master."
His finger pushed deeper, all the way to the knuckle, twisting
from side to side, pushing against her insides as she squirmed
helplessly, uncomfortable in both mind and body. None of her lovers
had ever spent much time exploring that particular region of her
anatomy, and it felt very strange that a man who was once her father
was doing so.
The finger pulled out, and his big hands grasped her hips,
drawing her backwards, forcing her feet to shuffle along the stone.
But her wrists were held, and she was thus forced to rise, and as he
spread her legs, to rise onto the balls of her feet. Her heart beat
more quickly, her pulse racing as he pulled her bottom out back
towards him and ordered her to stay that way.
Then she felt the pressure against her anal opening again, felt
it with a slack jaw at first, a sense of unreality, of disbelief, of
disgust, and then anger. But there was something else there, as well,
a dark sense of hunger and excitement as she felt what surely had to
be her ex-father's spongy warm cock-head prodding at her anus, slowly
pushing into her, forcing her wrinkled little opening to spread wide
around it.
Oh!" she gasped. "I-I - you - .
His lips were at her ear, his voice hot, his voice hard. "A slave
does not speak unless invited to do so!" he growled.
And his cock thrust hard, lurching up deeper, so that she felt
impaled, gasping and moaning as it drove higher and then still
higher, working back and forth, his hips twisting from side to side.
He drew back a little ways, and put his hand beneath her mouth.
"Spit," he ordered.
Dazed by the order, gasping, she didn't react until he yanked
harshly on her hair and repeated the order. Then she spit into his
hand and it disappeared. His cock drew back, then thrust up into her
again, more slippery now, moving more easily. She had only been
sodomized once, when very drunk, and could remember little of the
experience.She gasped and moaned and winced anxiously as her father's
cock drove achingly high into her belly, causing cramps to ripple
through her.
He drew back, and then thrust up, and then back again, and
another thrust. He began to work himself in and out, pumping,
thrusting - fucking her. Fucking her. Fucking her ass, she thought
dazedly. Her own father was fucking her in the ass!
No, not her father. Not any more. He had said so, hadn't he? He
had - had disowned her. Told her she was no daughter of his. He was
not her father now, just her - jailer, her master, and tears filled
her eyes again at the depths to which she had fallen as his cock
worked in and out with growing ease, battering her anal muscles down.
She felt a swelling sense of anguish, of misery, and then of anger
and defiance to drown them out. Well fuck him! Let him do his worst!
It didn't hurt too badly, though, not too badly, not physically.
His hips began to slap into her bottom now, for he had opened her
enough to take the whole length of his long shaft. She'd never seen
her father's cock before, but it felt immensely long and terribly
thick as it moved up and down in her gut.
"Move your ass back, slut," he ordered, yanking on her hair.
She gasped in pain, and at the shock of the word, so casually
used on her, and by her own father, or ex-father. But she obeyed,
grunting more loudly now as she pushed her bottom back to meet his
thrusts. He was thrusting harder, too, his cock spiking up hard and
fast, rutting into her, his hips striking so heavily against her
perfect buttocks that they were getting pink and sore, wobbling and
shacking under each impact. Her entire body was jarred and shaken by
his powerful hips each time he drove his cock up into her soft, snug,
moist belly, and she could only gasp and grunt and hiss stroke by
stroke by stroke.
Her breasts wobbled and shook with the force of her movements,
and he continued to yank back on her hair again and again, and slap
at her bottom to urge her to faster movement.
"You can do better than that, you little whore. Shove your ass
back onto my cock. Squeeze your ass down around it as it pulls out.
Open up to let it in. Are you brainless? Don't you know how to milk a
cock, you ignorant little bitch?"
Her ankles hurt, for she had to stay high on the balls of her
feet, and her bottom was starting to feel bruised and sore as his
hips kept hammering against it. She was numb inside where his cock
pumped and pistoned, and her breasts were starting to ache from
wobbling and jerking.
"Squeeze, slut!" he ordered, slapping at her bottom as he pulled
his cock back.
There was something horribly primitive about it, something raw
and carnal about the hard, steady thrusting of that big male cock up
into her belly, about the hard, bruising impact against her buttocks
and his hot breath in her ear.
Her head was drawn back as he continued to hold onto her hair,
continued to pull on it as he thrust up and forward with his cock
"Whore," he panted. "This is all you're good for. And you're not
even good at that yet. But you'll be taught," he said, his voice
harsh and breathless. "You'll learn how to use this slut body
properly."
And with that he thrust even harder and faster, and then drove
himself into her to the hilt, ignoring her shuddering moans as he
impaled her, as his cock fountained inside her belly, spewing wad
after wad deep into her bowels, exploding with hot, white liquid heat
until he could slowly relax, loosen his death's hold on her hair and
ease his softening prick back down out of the warm confines of her
sucking rectum.
He sighed as he pulled back a bit, looking down at her anal
opening, noting that it remained open, the muscles so battered that
they needed time to recover. He had always come like a gushing
fountain, and now as she began to slowly close he saw his semen begin
to slowly appear, to trickle out of her before she could fully close.
"It took too long for your ass to accommodate my cock, slave," he
said. "Your master should not be forced to wait on the needs of your
slut body. You will wear a butt plug so you'll get used taking cocks
up there more easily."
"Yes, master," she said dully.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
From the ebook Bitch-Slave Daughter - by Argus. Argus novels have
been published by Nexus, Olympia, Beeline, Silver Moon, Star, and
Chimera. His ebooks can be downloaded at <http://www.ebookblue.com>
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