Domming Daughter Dani – Part 2 of 51 – CARYN PART ONE

copyright: This work is released under the Creative Commons Attribution Only (CC BY) License. You can copy it, paste it, change it, try and get some other fool to pay you money for it. I don’t care. Just acknowledge my original authorship and if you change anything, be upfront about the fact that you changed it. If that ain’t a square deal, I’ll kiss your ass.

Story codes: mdom, male dominant, incest, inc, true, bdsm, some pedo, spanking, mmf and mff. 

If you don’t follow the story in order, this will make little sense to you.

Email: mrdutchmaster@gmail.com

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I met Caryn my freshmen year in college. I had my own parental issues and had divorced my mom and dad at the end of my freshman year. I was living on student loans and rinky-dink scholarships as I struggled to get my diploma in electrical engineering at a state school in the Midwest. I was broke and living week-to-week on whatever scratch came in from my job as a dishwasher at a Chinese restaurant. I dormed with a Texan named Cliff my freshman and sophomore years. Great guy. Funny as hell.

Caryn met Cliff at a mixer during the first week of college and was immediately smitten by his easy charm and confident southern swagger. Caryn was trying to escape life on an Arkansas hog farm. She wasn’t much of a student, but she was a helluva looker. At eighteen, her body was absolutely mouthwatering. Big 38C titties that bounced up and down when she walked and perpetually hard nips that were always poking through her blouse and staring right back at the boys. Oh, and that Kardasian ass exploding from her wasp waist. (A bit of an anacronysim, I know. Kim wasn’t even born in 1988.) I’m kind of a sucker for tiny girls with elegant little hands, the kind that make your cock look twice as big. Caryn had those. She also had a matching set of perfect size five feet that looked so small I kidded her that she could buy her shoes in the Barbie aisle of Toys-R-Us.

She was five foot one in bare feet and two hundred and twelve degrees in a pair of high heels.

I guess it’s tradition to describe a woman foremost by her hair color and shape. Caryn had hair. Caryn had hideous hair. It was a bad mix of mouseshit brunette and brass red. Because she was poor, her mother had been the one to cut Caryn’s hair and then try and disguise her crime against humanity with a spiral curly home perm. The color.The cut. Absolute disaster.

Caryn had high cheekbones and full lips, neither of which ever saw a spot of makeup until later in life. Her complexion was clear, but milky and blue and freckled with the unsexy kind of freckles. She may have come from farm stock, but she didn’t have the farmer’s tan.

It’s a testament to my poor writing skills to use a “celebrity” to fine tune you into Caryn’s appearance, but there is a tiny blonde porn knockout currently working (2011) named Lexi Belle. Before Lexi was a blond studio product (who refuses to swallow or take it up the ass, grumble grumble), she was a homely brunette and she did some raunchy amateur work under the name “Nawli.” I think Lexi grew up near New Orleans.  Anyway, being as you are going to be locked into Caryn’s sex life on and off for the next 70 thousand words, if you care, Caryn looked EXACTLY like early Lexi Belle. Same height. Same small feet. Same eyes. Same blothchy pale skin. Same mouth. Same slightly too big teeth. Identical ear shapes. Hair same bad color. Caryn had a smaller nose and bushier eyebrows. Much bigger tits and a rounder ass, too. And of course, Caryn had frizzy, messy hair. 

I’m not even sure if this will work or if the newsgroups strip out links, but below I’m adding a link. You’ll need to remove the dashes from the first part to get it to work. Just in case you’re interested. Early Lexi and Caryn could have been fraternal twins where Caryn got all the boobs.

h-ttp://www.xvideos.com/video253744/lexi_belle_-_early_bukkake

The end result was that the boys in our dorm had plenty to say about Caryn’s delicious frame, but nobody wanted to deal with the unevenness of the girl above her neck. This includes the part between her ears. She was a sweet enough girl, but a meek lack of confidence hung about her like a fog. Her self conscious skittishness left her with a certain paralysis in conversation. She was the definition of awkward. She certainly didn’t project intelligence. 

Caryn set her sights on Cliff, headed for law school and a bright future. If she had her way, Caryn probably would have been a happy wife. At least for a little while. Cliff dropped dead of a heart defect a little after his 30th birthday. 

Caryn and I had crossed paths dozens of times at campus functions. She would walk by our dorm room and if the door was open she’d walk in looking to sit around next to Cliff and not talk. In retrospect it was creepy and weird. At the time Cliff and I didn’t think much of it beyond the normal ration of guy teasing. “Just fuck her,” I’d tell him, “Give’r the big leg and send her on her way.”

“Dude,” Cliff said, “If I fuck her, I’ll never get to take a dump again without that needy bitch sitting on my lap.” 

Cliff was a wise man, as I’d soon find out. 

Sophomore year. October Night. Bonfire. Cliff was trying to make time with an Amazon redhead who worked part time at the library. Caryn was following Cliff around the fire like an uninvited puppy. Cliff made eye contact with me across the dark expanse, widened his fire-illuminated eyes, and twitched his head impatiently toward Caryn twice. The signal was clear. “Get this girl off me.” Roger that, Charlie Lima Foxtrot. Air support with ECMs on your mark. Wingman in position.

“Hey Caryn.” Three beers into the autumn eve and no bonfire date of my own, I had nothing but a surplus of game.

“Skip.”

I slid my hand under her elbow and smoothly pulled her away from the bonfire and toward the barrel of hard cider one of the frat houses had brewed up for the occasion. “C’mon. There’s finally a break over at the moonshine speakeasy. We gotta try this stuff.”

She looked over her shoulder at Cliff talking to Red Sonja as I stepped her away. She resisted for a moment and then relented, stepping in time with me.

After we cupped out a pair of plastic Solos filled with a pungent piss of alcohol and apple juice I stared up at the brilliantly crisp fall sky. “Orion,” I pointed upwards.

Caryn sighed. “He really likes her, doesn’t he?” Her eyes remained locked on Cliff making time with the redhead

“Who, Cliff? Ehn. I wouldn’t worry about it,” I said. “As fickle as Cliff is, he’s on to greener pastures tomorrow.”

“No, he really likes her. I’ve seen him talking to her at the library. I can tell by the way he leans toward her when he talks that it’s serious. It wasn’t that way with Barb or Shelly. But there’s something about this girl that makes his eyes sparkle.”

We stood in the awkward boiler room glow of the outer circle of the bonfire. Squiggling tongues of orange and ash licked a pattern over her cheap flannel farmers jacket. Caryn stabbed at the silence with her own answer. “Fuck,” she spat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

After a moment the water works started and she began to sniffle and hitch. “Oh God, I’m such a pathetic idiot.” Caryn covered her gaping mouth with her tiny hand.

“Oh boy,” I whispered. For whatever illogical reason, I felt responsible for the situation. It was awkward and getting more awkward by the moment. “Hey...” I stammered, concerned.

“I’m sorry,” she began to sob. “I’m so embarrassed. People are looking at me.”

“Walk with me,” I said. I took her hand and walked away from the bonfire. I walked her toward the path in the town park that leads through a thicket of trees and to the local side of the cliffs framing the Mississippi River. We didn’t have a flashlight, but the moon was bright enough to keep us on the path. Barges pumped upstream and another glided downstream, the searchlights in the high wheelhouses of the tugs spinning to map the boundaries of the river and find the navigational buoys. The upstream tug spun a bean that stopped on Caryn and me like Michigan J. Frog in the spotlight. Perv was probably looking for naked co-eds. Brilliant. Instead the poor bastard threw a spotlight on the third act of Steel Magnolias, Caryn’s face contorted and twisting in suffering as she bawled in earnest.

For no good reason I threw my drink into the river and tried to wrap my arms around her tiny frame to comfort her. She relented and leaned into me, blubbering snot and tears into the open V of my unzipped Members Only jacket. My right hand tried to ease comfort from her back while my left hand tangled in that awful frizzy witch hair of hers. After a time she began hugging back and her sobs subsided. I sat on the cold whitestone that framed the top of the cliff, my legs dangling over the edge. Caryn tried to sit next to me but complained the ground was freezing.

I scooted back so only my ankles and feet were over the cliff’s edge. “Sit on my lap then.” Caryn did. I could barely feel her weight. I had always known she was poor, more poor than I, if that was possible. For the first time I found myself wondering if she was eating at all. A bucket of popcorn weighed less. 

When you are in college, it doesn’t take much to go from Stranger to Lover. I held her until she stopped crying. I kissed little pecks on her forehead. We made small talk. I walked her back to her dorm room. Her roommate had gone home for the weekend. Caryn invited me in. After that, there was no pretext at all. I wanted to see those enormous tits unwrapped. I eased her back on the bed and pushed my tongue in her mouth. She offered no resistance as I unbuttoned and peeled her shirt off. Caryn’s bra was old lace, worn thin. I was shocked by the luminescence of the pink of Caryn’s nipples glowing through the fabric. The saliva in my mouth began to gush. I jerked that bra off her big melons with such impatience I heard it give a wet rip. Her aureolas were small and her nipples were long and tantalizing. And oh my God. They were so pink they were electric. My mouth closed hard on her right tit and my teeth latched tight and cruel.

Caryn yelped and bucked. Her hands came to my face and I grabbed her wrists and yanked them down and pinned them against the mattress. Then I bit the left tit with authority, chewing and pulling the textured nip with hungry fervor. When her hands stopped resisting I was able to start peeling her jeans off and down to her knees. There were no panties left behind and none clinging to the inside of her jeans. The waft of Caryn’s pussy was a fragrant candle of soap and sex. Heady and primal. My hand slipped down her flat stomach, through an unkempt tangle of jungle pubes, and dipped my fingertips into the puddle of sopping soft folds. Her pussy was the wettest cleft I’d fingered in my short career as a Lothario. Caryn’s eyes fluttered upward. I fished for her labia, but all my fingertips could find was a clit the size of a 25¢ gumball. As my fingers traced a map around the long circumference, Caryn thrashed like a landed trout. Her throat noises were guttural. I bit hard again on a tit and she arched and flooded my hand with a squirting orgasm.

“That was quick,” I said. I smirked and leaned into her panting mouth. I kissed her in a manner that was half biting nips on her slack bottom lip, and half kiss pecks.

“That was awesome,” she panted. She kicked the tangled knot of her jeans off her feet and onto the carpet. 

“I didn’t think squirters really existed outside the Penthouse letters column,” I said. 

Caryn blushed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Does that gross you out? I only do that when I come really hard.”

“No problem,” I said. “Kinda cool, actually.” I licked my dripping fingers. the juice was flavored with a tiny tang of cunt, but it was mostly tasteless.

Caryn fumbled at my belt. I had no patience. I had my 501s peeled and shucked in seconds. I flopped back on the bed and pushed Caryn’s reluctant head down toward my twitching cock. Then I noticed she wasn’t just resisting. She was pushing back up against my hand.

“Suck,” I said. I wasn’t barking, just direct.

“I’m... I’m not very good at that,” She pushed up and tried to stand/kneel on the bed beside me.

“Suck,” I said again. I grabbed at the back of her hair and pushed her face at my cock once more. This time I pushed down until the wet of her mouth warmed the top half of my cock. Caryn was right. She wasn’t very good at sucking cock. Her teeth scraped the sides of my cock and I winced. 

“Sorry,” she said, “it’s big.”

My cock wasn’t big. It was a little above average. More than seven inches. Maybe eight. Maybe nine, I dunno. I didn’t need cheap flattery, I needed my cock sucked, so I pushed her head down until the tip of my cock pressed into her throat. She gagged and pulled away harder than I could push to keep her down.

“Sorry,” she said again, coughing. “You have a beautiful cock. What you said about squirters? That you didn’t believe they exist? I’ve seen pictures of purple cockheads, but I’ve never actually seen one in person before.”

“It’s not really purple,” I said. “It’s red.”

“No, it’s purple alright. Eggplant.”

I examined my cock. She was right. If my cock stays really hard for a long time, the natural red blush of my cock tip can take on a purplish hue. Usually that comes as a result of a good half hour of steady rockhard. That night the purple was running ahead of schedule. There was something about Caryn’s meekness and her inexperience and all her squeaky little “Sorrys” that was flipping a deeply animal switch in my brain. I had never been as rough with another first date as I was with Caryn.

“C’mon,” I goaded. “Show me something. Suck me.”

Caryn looked into my eyes and then back at my cock. “Can you sit on the edge of the bed so I can kneel in the floor?” she whispered.

I did and Caryn did. She knelt in the dirty shag carpet remnant at my feet and tentatively wrapped her tiny hand around the very base of my cock. She batted her eyelashes at me one more time and leaned forward. This time when her lips wrapped around my cock it was an entirely different suck. Practiced. Smooth. Silky. And soft. Frustratingly soft. Her head bobbed at such a measured and slow pace, it was delightful, but it was pure tease. I knew I wasn’t going to bust a nut with that suck. I let her head bob for a full half hour. I could feel the cum boiling in my balls, but Caryn’s suck was just barely tepid enough not to trigger the first twitch of orgasm. 

I’d had enough. I stood up, reached down and grabbed Caryn under her armpits. I swear my intent was only to lift her to her feet so I could push her back on the bed and mount her pussy. Instead I miscalculated how damn light she was. Maybe 80 pounds, and half of that had to be ass and titty. I ended up yanking her off the floor and then some. She flew up against my stomach and wrapped her legs across my back when we collided. 

I just went with it. While I stood next to the bed, I reached around the steep curve of her ass and fingered the tip of my throbbing prick, pushing it toward Caryn’s dripping fuckhole. She was gushing wet again. I lined up and pulled her downward, reveling in the grip of her tight sloppywet cunt squeezing lower and lower on my shaft. I pulled Caryn down until her meager weight was entirely supported by the bridge of her big clit against my pubic bone. 

“OH mother of FUCK!” Caryn shouted. Her eyes went thin. The backs of her heels began desperately fluttering to find the backs of my knees. “Jesusfuckingchrist, you’re going to rip me in half!” she yelped. For the first time it dawned on me that the pure ecstasy of having my cock buried to the hilt in tight, soppy gash wasn’t translating to Caryn. Her entire mass was held up by my purple cockhead drilling up into the top of her cervix. She wasn’t trying to fuck me. She was trying to climb me to get the stretching pressure-pain off her womb. Again, I know no one would (or should) believe that I had never had a sexually sadistic thought go through my mind before that night. I was always a perfectly boring gentleman in the sack. But again, there was something about Caryn that sparked my dominant streak. I widened my legs and stepped out when she tried to lock her legs behind me. I used my strength to overpower her and push her down even harder on my cock when she tried to pull up on my shoulders. Her eyes squinted shut in pain and tears started rolling out the corners. I kept my eyes open and mapped every deliciously cruel second of her agony. It was all new.

But eventually my urge to stroke my cock in and out of her pussy won out. I reached behind her and grabbed an ass cheek in each hand and began lifting her up as I backed my cock out of her, and then dropping her as I thrust forward. Caryn’s head swiveled. Her top teeth went so far into her bottom lip that I expected blood to flow as she grimaced in pleasure and pain. Her head swiveled erratically around the anchor of her neck like a helium balloon on a windy day. She made little yippy squeaks as my hard prick drilled her pussy over and over. 

Then she came. I had never experienced anything like it. Caryn’s entire being began to thrash a tight little sine wave of hard, convulsive tremors. It was like holding an earthquake against my chest. Her pussy flooded once more. Soaking my balls and my thighs, raining down on the iffy dorm room carpet.  She went limp as a Pad Thai noodle and I thought she may have passed out. I dropped her down on my cock again for some more particularly sadistic upthrusts and she didn’t flinch.

“I think I killed you,” I mumbled in her ear.

“That might explain why I’m in heaven,” she muttered into my shoulder, her eyes not opening.

I leaned down and plunked Caryn’s limp frame across the narrow bed frame. If she thought I was letting her rest, she was wrong. I grabbed her curvy hips, lifted her, and flipped her over on her stomach. Then I pulled her up into a doggy pose and backwards until her knees were barely on the mattress and her tiny feet hung in the air on each side of my legs. I wanted to doggy fuck her while standing so I could pound her pussy nice and hard.

Dammit. She had a nasty bunny tail of hair covering her asshole that was disgusting. I shouldn’t have been surprised, given the huge bush she was sporting. “Gah,” I thought. “This girl really needs work!” The revelation was obvious. It was simple. It was undeniable. There was a really hot bitch on all fours in front of me. She just needed the Henry Higgins treatment. She needed makeup. She needed a small battalion of Brazilian spa girls sporting wooden sticks dripping with hot wax. She needed some clothes that fit her form, some skirts, something a girl wouldn’t slop hogs in. She needed a good haircut and probably a professional dye job. Maybe blonde. Maybe brunette. Hell, she had the light skin to make a knockout redhead.

Caryn needed work. 

I, on the other hand, needed to come. I reached out to grab a wad of the back of Caryn’s straw coif and pulled her back into my twitching cock. I took turns pulling her hair and yanking her hips until I finally felt the point-of-no-return broiling up from my scrotum. I banged Caryn’s pussy even harder and she began yipping in pain again. It felt as if my entire ass melted into lava and then rushed through the length of my cock as I began to pump cum. 

I’ve had some impressive displays of cocksmanship in my life, but that first evening with Caryn set the high water mark. Seven. Eight. Nine orgasmic clenches. I pulled out of Caryn’s pussy and a surprising tenth and eleventh shot of thick come fired into the back of her head. Wet white ropes made suspension bridges between the messy curls of her hair. I didn’t think it was physically possible to have that much cum in me. I was fucking Spiderman, shooting sticky webs five and six feet in front of me. 

I never asked if she was on birth control. Of course she wasn’t. Even subsidized Planned Parenthood birth control pills cost a couple bucks every month. Caryn didn’t have it. 

Did she get pregnant? Amazing to me now, but no. Not that evening, not the next morning when I fucked her again. Not for hundreds of times after that, either. Absolutely fucking amazing. There was a point before we got married when Caryn asked if I’d ever had my sperm checked for mobility. Neither one of us could believe I put that many loads in her without a single “Bingo.” It was odd. Very odd, I admit.

But again, I’m getting ahead of myself.