Domming Daughter Dani – Part 26 of 51 – DARK DAYS AND ROCKY ROADS

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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It took almost a year for the truth to set me free.  Here’s another Fast Forward.

* Caryn and I married in July of 1989.  I can’t even remember the name of the guy that had been in my Calc II class who served as my best man-slash-witness. Caryn’s boss was her maid of honor-slash-witness. No family on either side was notified and none came for the ten minute wedding.

* Danielle was born in September of 1989.

* Caryn suffered rather severe postpartum depression. She was just this side of looney tunes. I didn’t know a damn thing about babies, but I had to learn fast because Caryn was pretty helpless. Looking back, Old Man Me thinks it has a lot to do with Caryn starting birth control pills for the first time after the delivery. Too many competing hormones probably contributed to her loosing her marbles.

* Between the diapers and the feedings and play time, Danielle and I bonded like superglue. My heart was still “iffy” on Caryn, but there was no doubt that I loved that little baby girl more than anything on the planet.

* Don’t ask me why. Do not ask me why. Do NOT fucking ask me why, but after the wedding and the baby... I stopped domming Caryn. It’s one thing to treat your girlfriend like a slutty chew-toy. But something in my brain told me, “Hey, she’s your wife now. She’s the mother of your child. She’s had a fucked up childhood. It’s time for you to grow up and stop bossing your wife around like a sex slave.”

* This set off a series of unintended consequences where we had a lot less sex. I wasn’t as happy with the bland sex life we tried to learn to have with one another.  I became a lot more passive-aggressive and crabby with Caryn. I started sexing my girlfriend more than my wife. (Amber was a Senior that first year of my marriage to Caryn. Amber had moved into an apartment a half mile from our apartment.)

* A cycle-of-failure started between me and Caryn. She wasn’t in her right mind to begin with, and I was either spending long hours at my new job or pretending to spend long hours at my new job while I banged the daylights out of Amber’s tight twat.  Caryn and I were both unhappy and we started sniping at one another over the smallest things. We weren’t really that poor, but my starting paychecks weren’t much bigger than Caryn’s, so we thought we were poor. We wanted our own house and a more reliable car. Neither was in the budget.

* Sometime in the Winter of 1990 Caryn started having an affair with some 45 year old dude on the faculty.  I caught on around mid-June.

* Most of the time a guy can’t end his wife’s affair. Most of the time, any intervention will just send your wife all the way into the other guy’s arms. If the guy is married, you can spook him into backing off so his wife doesn’t find out, but Caryn’s paramour was single. I went and had a little chat with the other man.  For legal/identification reasons, I’m going to skip the details of how that went down, but suffice to say I ended that dude’s interest in fucking my runaround wife, as Caryn’s Daddy would say.

* After the whole affair and end-of-the-affair drama (complete with some lovely visits from our local LEA), my marriage to Caryn was at a rock-bottom low.  I retained a lawyer for divorce, one who could also represent me with my battery charge if it went forward (which it didn’t). I was sure Caryn and I were at an end and I naively thought that Caryn’s affair was my ticket to getting sole custody of Dani. Oh, what I didn’t know about family court at that point could have filled an encyclopedia.

* During the course of one long, seething weekend, all the cancer of my relationship with Caryn burst out of our respective guts and poured into the kitchen table in one big gloppy, gory mess.  When your wife is cheating, the question that has to be answered is “Why?”  Sometimes there isn’t a “why.” Most of the time cheating is just about feeding your ego (*cough*Amber*cough*), and that’s a shitty “why.”

Caryn gave me the “why.” To make a long story short, when I stopped being rough and dominant with Caryn, she assumed I didn’t care about her any more. She started flirting with some strong, dominant personality guys who came through her office and showed up to the staff happy hour meetups. One dude flirted back, and next thing, Caryn was on her hands and knees, spraying pussy juice again. This time it was sprayed over some other guy’s balls.

Facts is facts. Caryn was right. I changed the foundation of our relationship when I stopped domming her. Caryn had spent her entire life being “owned” by one strong man or another. Once I started treating her with kid gloves, she didn’t think she had value anymore. She didn’t know who she was anymore. I changed the core of our relationship for stupid, naive reasons, and everything went sideways.

“So... “ I forced myself to say it out loud, “You’re saying you were happier when I was beating the shit out of you and forcing you to tell me your incest stories every night?”

“It’s not about ‘happier’, Skip. I dunno. It’s hard to explain. I know that when you were bossy and horny all the time, I knew what my role was. I was... Shit, what’s the word? Complete. I was more complete. At first it was kind of sweet about the way you changed after I got pregnant with Dani. Then it was creepy. It’s so not you.  I wasn’t sure who you were.  I wasn’t sure if you were falling in love with your girlfriend or what.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Skip, you think I don’t know the taste of another woman’s pussy when it’s on your cock?”

Whoopsie.  My brain raced through hundreds of mental home movies to find an instance where this might have happened. Actually, it never occurred to me that Caryn would notice.

“Don’t act all sanctimonious,” Caryn continued. “You did it on purpose to humiliate me. It worked.”

Wrong, but I was just handed a complete pass on my ongoing dalliance, so I wasn’t about to start parsing words.

“Well, as long as we’re clearing out secrets,” I rubbed my temples. I finally told Caryn about Maxy and Allison. Caryn sat and listened intently. She didn’t cry. She didn’t anger. She just took it all in and listened until I had puked it all out onto the Formica table top between us.

Caryn reached across the table and took my hand. It was as warm a gesture as she’d offered me since she sneaked out of the Creepy Old Dude’e front door to find me standing in the middle of his driveway. 

“It is what it is, Skip,” Caryn whispered. “I don’t hate you. We both know what our relationship was before you left for Christmas break that time, and we both know it changed into something else after you came back.”

“That’s the absolute truth,” I said.

“What are you going to do about your other daughter?”

“What do you want me to do?” I asked.

“It’s your call, Skip. Now that you’re making a little bit of money, this Maxine girl or Sharon or the Grandma, somebody will probably come looking for child support.”

“You think?”

“Probably. Maxine’s family probably hates your guts and wants you dead right now. They are pretending you don’t exist. But shit changes. People cool off. Grudges fade. When your other daughter gets old enough to ask questions, they will figure out that it’s easier to tell the truth than keep a bad lie going forever. If they are going to acknowledge you exist, then they might as well get a check from you every month.”

“Man,” I sighed.

“You’re probably better off if you make first contact with this Maxine girl. Then the ball is in their court and they can hit it back... or not. If it goes to court, you’d look like you were trying to be responsible.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Frankly Skip, I know this is a hitch and it’s a big deal, but I’m more worried about us. I’d like to get past all the bullshit of the past few months.”

“I don’t know if I can,” I said. “I don’t know if I can get past thinking about you sucking that creepy old fuck’s cock.”

Caryn nodded, slow and sad. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s a pickle.”

We sat in silence.

Caryn asked, “What would the ‘old Skip’ do?  How would you have handled me being a cheating slut if it were a couple years ago?”

“Fuck,” I grumbled, glaring lasers into the flecked pattern in the tabletop. “I’d have beat your whore ass until your butt cheeks burst into flames, and then I’d have started on your tits.”

“You would have raped me senseless until I felt like I was yours again.” She said it very matter-of-factly.

“Damn right.”

When Caryn didn’t say any more, I looked up to see her give me a “So?” shrug and arch her eyebrows nonchalantly.

“What are you saying?” I asked.

Caryn shrugged again. “I still have some vacation days and some personal days.”

“Is that what you want?” I whispered. “You want to be raped and whipped?”

Caryn shook her head, “Absolutely not,” she said. “Absolutely not. But... Maybe that’s exactly what I need. Or at least what we need.”

“Well it’s sure as fuck what you deserve,” I grumbled. “I don’t know if even that would be enough to get all my anger out,”

Caryn shrugged again. “I’m sure you can think of something else, too. Something new. Something to hurt me way deep inside my heart or humiliate me. Some new way to twist my guts until you get all that vengeful anger out of you.”

“Like?”

“I dunno. You’re the smart one. And it’s your axe to grind. I’m sure you’ll think of something mean and twisted.”

“And you’re game for mean and twisted?”

“Skip,” Caryn rolled her eyes. “As long as you don’t leave. I really dont want you to leave. When you are being you, I can’t replace you. I love you. The ‘real’ Skip scratches every needy itch I have; in my heart. In my brain. In my pussy. I don’t want you to leave. If you’re still here when my punishment is all over, then it will be worth the price. Give me your worst. I can take it. I can take it if I know you’re not going to fuck me up and then still walk out on me.”

I considered Caryn’s offer.

“First things first,” I said. “I’m going to change the slut I have to look at every fucking day. We’re going to a decent hair salon and get you a new hair style.”

“That’s not much of a punishment.”

“And blond. I want you golden blond.”

“Fine.”

“And I pick the style.”

“Of course.”

Then I dropped the bomb. “You’re going to get the same cut and color as my girlfriend,” I said. “So when I fuck you, you know I’m thinking about her.”

Boom!  Now, this was a complete lie. Amber was a redhead and there was nothing special about Amber’s hair. If anything, it was too short for my taste. There was no similarity between Amber and my ideas for what I wanted Caryn’s new hair to look like. I merely wanted to gut punch Caryn and hurt her. It worked. Tears started pouring out of her eyes. Caryn nodded and started crying out loud.

We were on our way back.