Domming Daughter Dani – Part 17 of 51 – TAKING OWNERSHIP OF CARYN

By Dutchboy

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. 

Email: mrdutchmaster@gmail.com

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Troy’s couch was so ratty that it had actual exposed springs poking through the cushions. You see that a lot when cartoonists draw caricatures of poor people living in squalor, but you don’t actually see springs poking through the couch cushions in real life. They probably haven’t manufactured a non-foam couch cushion since 1969. Allowing a guest to sleep on that couch was a violation of the Geneva Convention and seven state laws. 

And yet I’ve never been so glad to sleep on a couch in my entire life.

Once I had my shit squared away and Troy’s spare key in my pocket, I slipped on my coat and walked across campus to the ATM. I checked the balance. The answer was not a comfort to a guy who had just cut the umbilical cord to his hometown support network. I walked down to the business strip and checked in with Mr. Chan at the Chinese restaurant to see if I could pick up some shifts. That guy loved me for some reason. He gave me three lunch shifts as a waiter, as well as the dinner shift on New Year’s Eve. New Years Eve and New Years Day were huge business nights at Chan’s. The catch was that I had to come up with a pressed white shirt and some black slacks.

Chan’s was an upscale Chinese restaurant, if you’ll pardon the oxymoron. The right shift could translate to some nice tax-free jingle in my pocket. (Hey, you know I raped my own daughter by this point. Are you really going to bust on me for not declaring tips?)

Before I left, Mr. Chan let me order a takeout platter for free. I loaded up a big container of mixed dishes and wrapped it in foil. I figured Troy would appreciate the fine eats in lieu of grocery money until I was working again. 

I cut back through the campus on my way to Troy’s. It was late in the day and cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that trademark awful, frizzy hair. I turned my head to see a very short woman quick-walk behind a hedge and disappear behind a campus building. Did I really just see that? I adjusted my path and followed the trail of the woman down an alley near the loading dock of the student theater. Then she was gone and I marveled at where she could have vanished so quickly. A large cardboard appliance box next to the building shook.

I stood and stared, unable to believe that I saw what I thought I just saw. After a moment the cardboard box wiggled again. I cautiously walked closer to the box. 

“Uh, Caryn?” I called softly. Nothing. “Caryn?” Louder this time. “Caryn, is that you?” A flap opened and some girl I’d once know as Caryn looked out at me. She looked like she’d been pulled through a keyhole backwards. She was wearing several layers of coats and had the ratty comforter that served as the bedspread on her dorm cot draped over her head and wrapped tight around her like a burka.

“Skip?” She looked as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

“Caryn, what the fuck?”

“Five more days,” her teeth chattered. “And the dorms open again.”

“Caryn, Jesus H. Frankenstein. Are you--- Have you--- Jesus! Come with me. Get your shit. Come on!”

My stomach turned. I remembered her asking to go with me back to my hometown. I figured out that she had no intention of going home for the Christmas break. I’d left my fucktoy to be a hobo on the winter streets. Shit.

Caryn had reduced her essentials to whatever would fit in her bookbag and purse. As we walked toward Troy’s apartment I had time to envision Caryn’s dorm room and realize she probably didn’t have many worldly possessions besides what she could carry in her napsack.

Troy’s jaw dropped when i walked through the door with Caryn. He thought I’d brought a homeless woman into his apartment. 

I warmed the Chinese buffet up one dish at a time in a microwave the size of a shoebox. We split it three ways. Caryn tried not to eat as ravenously as she obviously was. I kept scooping my share of Kung Pau onto her plate.

Caryn went into the bathroom to take a dump and a much needed shower. That’s when Troy confronted me.

“Dude, this isn’t a vagrant motel, we had a deal, yaknow?” He growled. “I appreciate the Chinese food. It was great and everything. But I said you could stay here. I didn’t say anything about your bitch.”

“Yeah,” I struggled for a the right words. “I didn’t see this coming, Troy. She’s living in a fucking box behind Drake until classes start up again.”

“You don’t think that’s a little weird?”

“I don’t know what to think. C’mon man. Just one night. Let her warm up here for just one night and I’ll figure something out. I can’t send her back to that box tonight?”

Troy exhaled and looked at his shoes. “One night. Okay? I don’t let ass stay at my place unless she’s slobbing my knob. I’m not going to listen to you two fuck for five more days while I pull my pud. One night, okay?”

“Gotcha,” I said. 

Troy went into his bedroom and I rummaged my duffel for the beard trimmer Suzie gifted me, as well as my razor and shaving cream. I slipped into the bathroom with Caryn. 

By the time I was done trimming Caryn’s bush and shaving her bung hole, and after she had shaved her legs, and washed her hair, I was once again reminded of what a hot piece of ass she was. She brushed her wet hair into a poofy pharaoh’s headpiece. Gah. Her hair still needed work. She was so skinny I could see the lines of her ribs. She was so skinny that she was starting to starve away her big juicy knockers. They were down to “average C cup wow.” Still nice, but not “Holy shit, delicious!” like she’d been two weeks earlier. Her clothes were in a pile next to the toilet. They stank. I could smell them as soon as I stepped in the bathroom. I hadn’t noticed a funk so much when Caryn was wearing them, but I couldn’t help smelling the rankness as they lay wicking up shower splash from the bathroom tile.

Caryn looked pretty fuckable, freshly showered and shaved and still undressed. She sparked my prick. I had thatched her bush into a tight, dirty blonde strip, two fingers’ width, and then I shaved her mound from the clit-line back to her ass (and beyond).

Her pussy was looking rather tempting. 

I kissed her. Her tongue snaked into my mouth. 

“Thank you,” She whispered. “You saved my life.”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

“Troy is awesome to let me stay for a couple of days. Can you buy some groceries? I’ll cook him something fabulous.”

“Uhhh...” I said. Then it hit me. The solution was easy. “Hey, here’s the deal.”

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Caryn looked like a naked deer in the headlights when Troy opened his bedroom door. Caryn shook with nervousness. 

“What the?” Troy exclaimed as his eyes worked down the front half of Caryn’s naked skin.

“Hey, just a little thank you, okay? Caryn’s going to thank you for helping her out, if that’s okay?”

Troy looked at me. “You sure, man?”

“She wants to,” I lied. “Least she can do in return for the hospitality. Okay? Oh hey, er... Troy. She’s not on the pill so … you know.”

“Yeah,” Troy said absently. He opened his door and I pushed Caryn in the small of her back to start her walking into a forced sex session. 

I gathered up Caryn’s rank clothes and helped myself to Troy’s laundry detergent under the sink. It was easy to see, right behind where the missing cabinet door would have been. I washed Caryn’s clothes in the downstairs laundry room of Troy’s apartment building with the modest change I had left in my pockets.

It was unsettling to think about Caryn sexing Troy. I tried not to think about it, but it was hard to get my mind to stop creating imagery. I wanted to know what was going on, but I didn’t want to know what was going on.

Of course you want to know what was going on, so here’s the scoop. It took a while to get to the truth of what happened, but Old Man Me knows what went down, so I’ll give you the synopsis.

Troy had laid back in his bed and told Caryn to suck his cock. He squirted into her throat in less than a minute. Then he sucked her titties and played with her freshly shaven twat until he made her suck him again. Caryn said it took forever to get Troy hard again, but once he was stiff enough, he mounted Caryn missionary and humped her pussy until he was ready and then stood beside the bed while Caryn leaned over and schlurped a couple of strokes on Troy’s hard cock until he unloaded a hot mess into her throat. 

Troy pushed her out of his room, still naked, and closed the door behind Caryn. 

I had every stitch of Caryn’s clothes. She was sitting buck ass naked on Troy’s ratty couch watching Cheers on the television when I walked back into the apartment with a pile of warm, clean clothes. Caryn was relieved to see me, and more relieved to see her clothes. 

“Na-na-na!” I said, pulling them back from her grasping hands. “I may have let Troy have first crack at that shaved pussy, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to get my share too, Bitch.” 

I started to kiss Caryn, but then pulled back. “Did you suck Troy’s cock?”

Caryn blushed and nodded guiltily.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “Of course you did, you cocksucking bitch. Get on your knees and suck my cock now, slut.”

I had dommed Caryn on plenty of previous occasions (before I even knew the word “Dom” could be a handy verb), but when I barked that particular time and called Caryn a slut that particular time, I could see that it hurt her. She looked up at me, gutpunched. My expression was pure disgust. 

“Did I stutter, slut?” I growled at her. “Get your bitch ass down, put your bitch knees in the carpet, unbutton my jeans, and get your bitch mouth moving on my cock. Slut.”

Caryn looked as though she was going to cry at any second. She glanced back at Troy’s door, as if she expected it to open. She dropped to her knees and by the time her hand wrapped around the cock in my pants, it was so hard and long and half-way down my right pant leg, that Caryn had trouble unsheathing it from my pants and underwear.

Eventually my cock sprang out, pointed right at Caryn’s nose. I grabbed the back of her hair and jammed my cock in her throat hard. I realized that I was actually mad that she’d sexed Troy the way I told her to/forced her to. I fucked Caryn’s throat in hard thrusts that left no doubt I was mad. I was still standing, so I kicked my jeans away from my ankles and sat back on the couch.

“Get over here and suck my cock. Did I say you could stop, Slut? Did I come in your slut mouth, slut? Did I?”

Caryn looked bewildered at the unfairness of it all. I leaned forward and grabbed the hair on the top of her head and gave it a hard shake. “I. Asked. You. A. Question. Slut. Are you fucking deaf?”

My hair twisting hurt her, and there was no doubt she was getting angry.

“No,” she spit flatly. Her eyes stayed locked on my hard bobbing prick.

“No what, slut?”

“No Sir,” she spat. Her face went bright red and I was sure she was going to start acting as pissed off as she looked.

“Are you a slut?” I leaned over and growled, nose-to-nose with her. Even though we were eye-to-eye, Caryn kept her eyeline low and submissive.

Caryn hesitated. “If you say so. Sir.”

“What do you say? Do you think you are a slut?”

Caryn hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? How many cocks have you sucked in the past hour?”

“I don’t know, Sir. I don’t know if you fucking my mouth counts as sucking your cock or not.”

Looking back, it was probably a sincere point of inquiry. At the time, I wasn’t sure how to play the putt, so I took the easy way out and smacked her face. Her mad face flashed into a blank face. A tear spilled and the wet rivulet started snaking down the crest of her high cheekbone. 

“Suck,” I commanded. “Suck my cock, you bed-hopping slut.”

And she did. She bobbed her frustrating softsuck for a long time. The dominance and the anger made my cock feel five inches longer than it was.

“Get my come, slut,” I growled. “Suck harder. Get my come.”

Caryn sucked faster, but not any tighter. I needed her to suck just a little tighter.

“Did Troy fuck you?” I asked.

Caryn nodded and then continued sucking. 

“Did he come in your pussy?”

Caryn shook her head no and kept sucking.

“And you sucked his cock, didn’t you, slut?”

Caryn nodded and began to blush with shame again. 

“How many times did you suck his cock?”

Caryn held up two fingers. Then her expression went askew and she held up three fingers.”

“Jesus slut,” I moaned. “You swallowed Troy’s come three times?”

Caryn shook her head and held up two fingers. The come in my balls began to boil. there was a definite love-hate thing going on with getting a submissive suck from a girl telling me slutty true tales, even if Caryn was doing most of it with hand signals. I wanted more.

“You ever suck two cocks in the same day before?” I growled. “Slut?”

Caryn stopped sucking for a beat. Tears spilled over her cheek again. Then she resumed her suck. She nodded.

“Say it,” I said. “Talk, slut. Say it.”

“Yes,” she whispered around my cock head. “Yes sir.”

“Yes sir what? Say it.”

“Yessir, I’ve sucked more than one cock in the same day before.”

“Good God, you fucking slut,” I moaned. “Jesus. You whore. “

Caryn’s face was crimson. She was absolutely humiliated to be forced to confess her secrets to me. But, for whatever reason, she could have just lied and she didn’t.

“What’s the most cocks you’ve sucked in one day?”

Carny hesitated again. Then she held up four fingers.

“No,” I said. “I mean how many different cocks have you sucked in the same day. Multiples of the same suck don’t count.”

Caryn stared at my pubic hair and lifted the same four fingers up. Then she squeaked in her bashful little southern mouse voice, “Four, Sir. I’ve sucked four different cocks in one day.”

I’ve boxed before. I’ve been punched so hard with a boxing glove that I’ve had the edges of my vision go black. That’s pretty close to the sensation I experienced hearing Caryn say that she’d sucked four different cocks in the same day. I had no comeback. I was gobsmacked.

Caryn stopped sucking and took my prick shaft in her hand. For the first time she looked me in the eyes. 

“I was raped,” Caryn whispered.

“By four guys?” 

Caryn’s hand danced a little up and down my shaft. “Three guys,” she said. “A man and two boys.” Caryn’s mouth danced over my cockhead and then came off. “The fourth guy was my boyfriend.”

Rape is great fodder for a jerk story. I know you want the rape thing. You’ll get the rape thing. But 19 Year Old Me, sitting on that broken couch, having just slapped his girlfriend, that wasn’t a porn story. That was for reals. The fucktoy I had whored out to Troy and then abused while she sucked my cock told me that she had been raped by three guys. It was kind of a guilty gut punch. Takes a lot to make me feel guilty, but that was definitely one of the rare occurrences.

I sighed. I still had to come, but the air had gone out of a good Dom session. I reached down and jacked my cock at Caryn’s face.. Her sightline dropped back to the head of my cock.

“Tongue,” I whispered. Caryn’s tongue danced on tip of my bouncing cockhead. “Open your mouth,” I said. “Wider. Get my come.” 

White ropes of sperm streamed onto the back and flat of Caryn’s tongue. I watched her scoop and swallow jet after jet. After I pumped my last shot I melted into the couch and dropped my cock. “Clean it,” I said. “Every drop.”

Caryn ran the tip of her tongue over every cloudy white bauble on my shaft and cockhead. It was my first sperming of her mouth and it ended up being a great show.

She waited on her knees to see what would happen next. I leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “Get dressed, willya?” I whispered.

That night we spooned on that awful couch. Caryn dropped away quickly. My mind raced. Somehow there was no doubt that Caryn was a stray kitten and -- for some stupid ass reason -- I had taken her in. She was not just my fucktoy. She was my responsibility to take care of the rest of the day, too. I momentarily considered trying to scrape her off on Troy. Make him responsible for Caryn and then slink away. But I knew that a submissive sex toy was going to be as easy to walk away from as a suitcase filled with $100 bills. I was stuck.