Domming Daughter Dani – Part 29 of 51 – GROOMING DANI PART ONE

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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Seems kind of pointless to describe Little Baby Girl Dani because she was such an anonymous little bologna loaf as a baby and her toddler years. But maybe you pedos care.

First off, when Danielle was lifted into my arms for the first time, I immediately thought she was albino and nobody else in the delivery was commenting on it. Her skin was SO pale. I asked a nurse and the nurse laughed and assured me that Danielle was not an albino. 

“How can you be sure?” I asked. “Isn’t there some kind of test you can run?”

All the nurses laughed. “Honey,” the head nurse said. I don’t need a test. I have eyes. So does your baby girl. She’s got the prettiest green eyes I’ve seen in months. Albinos don’t have pigment in their irises.”

Yeah. I knew that.

It didn’t help that Dani was born with light blond hair (and quite a bit of it). By the time she was two it had morphed into a solid brunette. Caryn said it was identical to my hair color, but I thought it was a little lighter than mine.  By the time her hair fixed its dark color there was no doubt the little widow’s peak in the middle of her forehead was there to stay. I have no idea where that recessive gene came from. No widow’s peaks on either side of Dani’s family, as far as we know. Thank God, Dani had her mom’s button nose and perfectly shaped ears. She got my grey-green irises.  Dani looked about as cute as a baby/toddler can look.

Widow’s peaks can go either way on a girl, but it always accentuated Dani’s heart-shaped face, especially as she got older. It can be very feminine on the right girl, ala Jen Tilly. It can also go terribly wrong ala Fran Drescher. Yicgh!

Caryn seemed to think the widow’s peak was a curse. “It really limits the kinds of hair styles a girl can have,” Caryn sighed over the bassinet. I thought Caryn was nuts. It wasn’t like Dani had a Butch Patrick going. It was barely noticeable, I thought.

“So she can wax it,” I offered.

Caryn looked at me like I was an idiot, “You can’t wax a widow’s peak, Skip.”

No, you can’t. But little did we know that cheap electrolysis was ten years away.

One thing that never changed was Danielle’s creamy pale skin. It was flawless. Not a freckle. Not a mole. Not a blemish. A lot like Suzie Wagner’s skin but much more chalky white. Suzie looked healthy. Dani had skin like a movie vampire. She looked anemic, but her blood tested perfectly normal. Against the dark brunette hair and her pretty face, the pale skin was striking. I’d seen it on the Serbian side of the women on my mother’s side of the family. 

It’s never too early to start a girl on dance lessons, and we started Dani down that road not long after she was out of diapers.

One of the dumbest grooming mistakes a dad can make is starting sexually grooming his daughter TOO early. Grooming before a girl has developed her frontal lobe brain filter -- the part of the brain necessary to understand just a little bit of propriety -- is suicide.

If you lived in isolation, maybe, but if you aren’t careful your girl will be at day care playing “mommy and daddy” with some friends and she’ll tell her doll to “suck Daddy’s cock!” in the matter-of-fact manner that will get Child Protective Services to your door in a hurry.

I tested Dani’s ability to keep a secret with lots of mundane little tests, starting when she was about four.

“We’re going to go get an ice cream, but you have to absolutely promise me that it stays between you and me. If you tell your mom, I’m going to get in a lot of trouble, so you can’t say anything to anybody. Got it?”

“Got it, Daddy!”

30 minutes later: “MOM! WE’RE HOME! WE DIDN’T GO ANYWHERE AND DADDY GOT ME ICE CREAM!”

It was just a simple cognitive test, and of course I didn’t expect Dani to keep a secret at her young age. But when she spilled a secret I negatively reinforced the behavior the same way you train a puppy. Good old fashion shun. I’d turn my back and refuse to acknowledge Dani for a few hours. That shit was effective.

More often than not, I was the designated bather. Don’t read too much into that. There’s nothing inherently sexual about a five year old. Bathtime started out as nothing but bath time.

As I lathered up Dani’s little frame with my huge hands, I purred out a steady stream of positive reinforcements.

“That’s my good clean girl.”

“There’s Daddy’s pretty girl.”

“That’s how my pretty girl gives herself up to her Daddy.”

Notice lots of possessives mixed in with all that reinforcement? If you’re going to own a woman or a girl, it starts with teaching them that they CAN be owned and they ARE owned.

After Dani tuned four, I started getting her used to minor penetrations. I soaped up my pinky and ordered her to stand in the tub, put her hands flat against the tiles, and bend her butt toward me. I started by gently tickling her bung hole with my sudsy finger until she squealed and jerked with tickle delight. I did that for several months. (Patience.) Then, after the tickling one night I said, “Hhew, girl! Your little pik ass is crusty. Daddy cannot have a nasty pink ass girl. You have to be squeaky clean for Daddy inside and out. Hold still. This is going to be a little uncomfortable.”

I slid the tip of my pinky into the pink ring of Dani’s ass. She didn’t like it, but she took it with little back talk.  Three reamings later and Dani began anticipating that particular climax of the bathing ritual. Lots of pained expressions, but never a peep of backtalk. 

After I dried Dani off with a towel, I further groomed her with a slathering of baby oil all over her body. “Dry off soft,” was the Marketing slogan of the day. My Engineer’s mind suspected that baby oil didn’t do a goddamn thing for the skin, but it was another grooming routine designed to keep barriers from getting a foothold. Another chance to get her used to my hands sliding all over her little body. Another chance to drill subliminal catechisms into her head.

“Whose hand is this?” I’d ask as I rubbed the baby oil into the webbing between Dani’s tiny fingers.

“This is your hand, Daddy. This hand belongs to you.” Dani had an adorably musical little girl voice. She got that from her mother too.

“Whose arm is this?” Rub rub rub.

“This is your arm, Daddy. This arm belongs to you.”

The baby oil game dictated that if I used an adjective, Dani had to spit back the adjective in her answer.

“Whose pretty boobies are these?”

Dani would always fight the urge to laugh. “These are your pretty boobies, Daddy. These boobies belong to you.”

“And whose pink nippy is this?”

“That’s your pink nippy, Daddy. This nippy belongs to you.”

“Oh yeah? Well what about this other pink nippy?”

“That’s your pink nippy too, Daddy. That nippy belongs to you.”

“Whose sweet little tickle-kitty is this?” I’d ask, pulling a freshly lubricated finger through the cleft of her little pussy.

“This is your sweet little tickle-kitty, Daddy!” As groomed as Dani was, she still had enough repression in her to giggle like she knew I was making a dirty joke. “This kitty belongs to you.”

There was one exception to the “This Belongs to Daddy” catechism. Dani’s ass was always the last item inventoried. I didn’t want Dani talking like a longshoreman at her day care or around her friends. We used lots of euphemisms like “boobies” and “nippies” and “kitty.” But...

“Whose ass is this?” I asked.

“It’s my ass, Daddy. But my ass belongs to you.”

“Well...” I’d always say the same way, “then get your ass to bed!”

Without drilling too deep into psychological rationalizations, her body belonged to me because I was her owner. I was her Dom. The fact that her ass was the one thing belonged to her was a little nod to Dani’s sense of personal responsibility. Her ass was on the line for what she did with my body. Dani’s ass was going to take the spanking for the cookie “Daddy’s hands” snuck past “Daddy’s kissy-lips” without parental permission.

Plus, yaknow, “my ass” just doesn’t work for a host of rhetorical reasons.

“Dani, get my ass down here and empty the dishwasher!” Uh, no. Doesn’t work. 

Dani wasn’t allowed to wear underwear after he bath. She wore over-sized night shirts that ended high on the thighs. My directive to Caryn was that I should always be able to see Dani’s pussy if she were to clap her hands over her head. 

The same rule applied to Caryn. By nine o’clock at night she was ordered to be in a similar short night shirt with no panties or bra. Every night shirt had to pass the “clap test.” And trust me, I tested every one.

I told Dani that it was important for a girl to get plenty of air to her Daddy’s kitty in order to keep it healthy. She bought it. Again, it was one of those Dom things that “moved the line” that would normally be a crossed line. I could pull the plug on Dani’s grooming at any time and she would still grow up to think “Wow, well Dad sure was fixated on hygiene, wasn’t he?” That was my litmus test. “Can I do THIS and still have my adult daughter look back and think it wasn’t sexual abuse?” 

When the answer to that question was an absolute “No,” then I would know I had crossed the line for good. Hell, I knew it was only a matter of time, but I wanted Dani much more developed into a pre-teen before I crossed it. I didn’t want her to be frightened, broken, little molested cum cup who couldn’t function in normal life. I wanted a confident little slut. I wanted Dani to be a little Suzie Wagner for her own Daddy. 

I was popping no boners while I rubbed baby oil over Dani’s little girl ass and little girl pussy. It was all groundwork for more perverted things to come.

By (my) house rule, Dani was to sit on my lap for at least 15 minutes every night. She could do it while I watched television, which I rarely did. She could sit on my lap while we messed around on my state-of-the-art 286 computer (running the epic Windows 2.11 OS). She seemed to like that best. Television bored Dani as much as me, but she liked the power of learning a new computer technique, even if it wasn’t one that a four year old needed to know.

By (my) house rule, I was the last person in Dani’s bedroom every night. Easy guess as to why I wanted that rule in place. Caryn gave her kisses and hugs. Then Daddy entered the room and Caryn left without saying a single word more after I walked through the plane of the doorway. Caryn would literally stop mid-sentence if she was talking when I entered. (I made sure to time my entrance so this happened often.) It taught Dani that Daddy was the last word on matters of the house, and Mommy absolutely understood her place. Daddy was king.

Where normal kids might have a nightly prayer, I would sit in Dani’s desk chair and say in a commanding Dad voice: “Recount your providence to me.”

Dani had no idea what “recount” or “providence” meant. She just got down and kneelt in the floor in front of me, put her hands on her night shirt-covered knees, and recited the most important catechism I had taught her.

“I belong to YOU, Daddy. Heart and soul. Inside and out. From the tips of my hair to the soles of my feet, I belong to you.”

(Yes, this was another small exception to the “Daddy-possessive pronoun” rule, but I liked the way it sounded. It was a pledge. It was the license she gave me to assume ownership for all the “Daddy’s arms” and “Daddy’s eyes” and “Daddy’s boobies.” 

After the Pledge of Providence, I waved her back up on the bed and we’d have normal bedtime chats about day care and dance class, or we’d read a book. Normal parenting.

I waited for Dani to tell me that she no longer wanted me in the bathroom when she was naked or bathing. THAT would be my cue. That’s when little girls start developing a strong sense of propriety and the first blush of thinking of themselves as a sexual entity begins to take shape.

When a little girl asserts that she is old enough to bath by herself, THAT is the starting pistol for Phase Two.

It took a while. Dani didn’t make a fuss about being too old to be soaped up by Daddy until she was seven.

Between ages five and seven, my grooming efforts focused on A.) The dominance of the alpha male and B.) Ritual and catechism. 

I didn’t spank Dani much before she started Kindergarten. Just a few times between the ages of three and a half and five, but just garden variety dadswats to her covered tush. Honestly, she was a remarkably obiedent and well-mannered kid.

By the time Danielle started Kindergarten, she had no problem keeping secrets. She also had a keen sense of situational appropriateness. She understood that there was a firewall between family business and school business. I was cautious about stress-testing Dani’s secret-keeping abilities. A little at a time. I was in no hurry.

After Caryn and I had our first parent-teachers conference before Christmas of first grade (five and a half) I had a little fodder to escalate into a formal, male dominant disciplinary ritual.

I set up a proper chair in the carpeted area of the basement. After the Sun went down I summoned Caryn and Dani down to deal with me.

“Both of you,” I said sternly. “Take off your clothes and toss them in the corner. All of them.”

Dani looked at Caryn. 

“You heard Daddy,” Caryn said slowly. “Daddy is the boss. If he says ‘do it’ then you do it.”

Caryn peeled off all her clothes quickly. She’d practiced the moves since she was not much older than Dani was. Dani seemed to take forever to finally shuck her little polka dot panties and kneel next to her mother in front of me. She was clearly overwhelmed by my solemnity and the escalation of my manufactured anger. Dani looked adorable, her dark hair spilling over her porcelain shoulders and her gray-green eyes huge with confusion.

“Mrs. Yelton says you have a problem socializing with other girls when you are supposed to be working on class projects,” I glared at Dani.

Dani began to shake involuntarily.

“Well,” I said. “Is this true?”

“N-no, Daddy.”

“It’s not true? Mrs. Yelton is a liar, is she?”

“Y-y-yes, Daddy.”

“So when I go take you to see her tomorrow morning and I tell her that you say she’s a liar, that’s going to be your answer when we’re all standing in the same room?” (Plagiarized from Caryn’s dad, yes. As was a lot of what would happen in that basement.)

Dani’s eyes rolled up, indicating she was calling on her active memory. Then they dipped down, indicating she was calling on her “creative” memory and about to tell a lie.

“D-Daddy, sometimes I talk to my friends, but not too much.”

“Enough with your bullshit, young lady!” I boomed. “From now on, when you get a spanking, your mother gets a spanking too. And when your mom gets a spanking, you get the same spanking at the same time. As of tonight, your mom has been demoted. You’re both equals to me. You are both my bitches. Your mom happens to be my Best Bitch, so she’s the boss of you until you are Best Bitch. Do you understand?”

Dani had no idea what I was talking about. She looked dizzy.

“Caryn-Bitch, do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” answered Caryn. She’d been calling me Daddy in bed as well as around Dani for years by that point. One night she replaced “Yes Sir” with “Yes Daddy” and I liked it. It made the “you two are equals schtick” that much easier to implement if they both called me Daddy.

“Dani-Bitch, do you understand?”

I’d never called Dani a bitch before. Her eyes started leaking instantly.

She nodded.

“Speak up, Dani-bitch. Answer me. You and Caryn-Bitch are equals when you are being punished. No more Mommy and Little Girl. When I’m upset, you’re both my bitches. You both belong to me. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“At least when you two are in trouble, and down here to make right with me, you’re both my bitches. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“When we go back upstairs, you’re still my bitch until we make up, and I decide if or when we make up. Got it?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Caryn-Bitch, tell Dani-Bitch what you think about getting spanked because she was a bad girl at school.”

Caryn sighed. “Dani-Bitch,” Caryn paused to think of something semi-appropriate to say. “Dani-Bitch, when you displease Daddy, it makes me sad. You should always be your best girl for Daddy so we don’t get our asses spanked.”

“Well said, Caryn-Bitch,” I nodded. “Now Dani-Bitch, tell Caryn-Bitch what you think about the spankings you both are going to get.”

Dani really started crying at that point. She’d never seen me that cross before. “Mom I’m sorry.”

“Nah-uh!” I wagged my finger. “No ‘mom.’ Call her by her bitch name. You both are getting spanked. You’re both bitches. Address Caryn-bitch by her proper name and say it again.”

Dani snuffed a bunch of snot and whispered, “Carynbitch, I’m so, so, sorry I was bad.”

“That’s better,” I nodded. “Caryn-Bitch. Get up and over my lap.”

Caryn was ass-up under my right hand in seconds. I commenced a loud spanking. Loud. Not hard. It may have been the softest I’d ever spanked Caryn. I kept my hand cupped to make a lot of noise, but not transfer any energy. Caryn made a big show of howling like I was killing her. I wasn’t entirely sure how Caryn was going to handle the cyclical return of her childhood incest before that moment. She put on quite a show, which made the look of horror on Dani’s face even more pained.

As far as I was concerned, the night was a bullshit exercise in grooming, not punishment. The whole “talk in class” thing was trumped up, obviously. I didn’t drag it out.

“Okay, Caryn-Bitch, get back on your knees. Dani-Bitch, get over my lap.”

Dani was wailing with shame as she picked herself up off the carpet and shuffled over to my lap. I pulled her over my knee and went right to work. Ten of the lightest ass swats in the history of spanking. barely enough to leave handprints on Dani’s bubble-butt. You couldn’t tell it from Dani’s shameful bawling.

I put Dani back in the floor.

“Goddammit, you bitches!” I growled. “All that naked girl ass made my dick hard.” I pointed to the bulge in my slacks. “I won’t abide a cock tease in my house. Which one of you bitches is going to suck the hard out of it?” I looked back and forth between them.

Caryn blinked. She had not been entirely certain the night was going THERE until I said “dick.”

Caryn lifted her palm. “I will, Daddy. I’ll suck you.”

“You see that, Dani-Bitch? Caryn-Bitch is going to clean up after you again.”

“I’m sorry!” Dani wailed.

“Caryn-Bitch has to take even more punishment because of you.”

Caryn said sweetly, “But I like to suck the hard out of your cock, Daddy. It’s not punishment.”

I stood up, unzipped, and aired out my stiff member. Dani looked positively dumbfounded. “That’s why you are my Best Bitch,” I said to Caryn. “Get busy.”

I sat back down in my chair and Caryn immediately began schlurping schlong in front of her confused daughter.

“I don’t even want to look at you,” I growled cruelly to Dani. “Go stand in the corner. Put both your hands on your head. Keep ‘em there.”

Caryn on all fours sucking my cock loudly. Dani standing with her reddened ass pointed toward me and her pretty dark hair spilling down her back. Yeah, this was going to be a lot of fun.

I only held out about twenty minutes before the tingle waves started to get too high to wade any longer. I felt the tremor in my leg.

“Dani-Bitch, get over here, now!” I barked. “On your knees. Closer. Closer. Now watch Caryn-Bitch as my baby juice squirts out of my balls and goes in her mouth.”

Dani had stopped crying. She now looked absolutely repulsed.

“Put your hand on my balls. I want you to feel the baby juice going out of my balls and into Caryn-Bitch’s mouth.”

Dani slowly extended her hand like she was going to pet a snake. It was too slow. I passed the point of no return and started grunting. Caryn gulped loud. I grabbed Dani’s hand and practically smashed it against my balls. Purely symbolic. 

I finished twitching the last shots of come and I pushed Caryn’s forehead until her mouth finally let loose of my overstimulated and spent prick.

“You’re a good girl, Caryn-Bitch,” I sighed. I lifted Caryn’s chin and leaned down to kiss her several times. “That’s why you are my Best Bitch, Babydoll.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” Caryn smiled.

I ignored Dani.

“Caryn-Bitch, get up on that bench and make up with me,” I pointed to my padded weight lifting bench. Caryn and I had never done this ritual before, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell if you were standing there. Caryn bounced over and went to hands and knees on the bench.

“Where did Daddy spank you?” I asked.

“You spanked me on my ass, Daddy,” Caryn said.

“Show me.”

“Here,” Caryn pointed to one blushed ass cheek then switched hands. “And here.” She pointed to the other ass cheek.

“First daddy kisses the spank,” I said. I kissed all over Caryn’s curvy ass cheeks. 

“Then,” I continued. “Daddy licks the spank and eases the pain away,” I licked big laps all over Caryn’s globes.

“Then Daddy loves on the spank and shows his good girl that he loves her.” I nuzzled my cheeks warmly against Caryn’s ass.

I stood. “Now, what did you get spanked with?”

“Your hand, Daddy.” Caryn squeaked.

“Kiss the hand that spanked you,” I demanded. I held my palm to Caryn’s mouth and she started kissing away.

“Lick the hand that spanked you,” I demanded. Caryn’s tongue rolled out and danced over my fingertips.

“Love the hand that spanked you.” Caryn nuzzled her face into my petting pats.

“Okay,” I said. “You are reconciled with me, Caryn.” Get your clothes and go upstairs.

“You,” I turned on Dani. “You’re still on my shitlist, bitch. Get upstairs and maybe we’ll reconcile later. No no! Leave your clothes. You don’t wear any clothes until you get off punishment. I don’t care if you have to go to school naked all week. Don’t let me catch you wearing so much as a sock.”

Hard, humiliated tears jagged out onto Dani’s cheeks again.

Like I said, it was an exercise in grooming. Moving “The Line” again. I didn’t expect or even want my five year old daughter to suck my cock. I just wanted her to see that Daddy had a no-nonsense side and Mom wasn’t exempt from it either.

I waited about twenty minutes and went up into Dani’s room. I went through the kiss-lick-nuzzle catechism on her creamy little butt. Then she did it back to my hand just like her mom did.

You, Dear Reader, you’re thinking that whole “kiss-lick-nuzzle” where I spanked, with the girls doing it back on whatever I used to spank them with is bizarre, don’t you?  It sounds bizarre. But I knew that one day I’d be spanking Dani on her tits and pussy. How convenient that the make-up ritual would one day dictate that every body part that got spanked had to be kiss-licked-nuzzled in order to make peace and close out the punishment hostility. And if I spanked her with swats from my hard cock? Punishment cockswats to the face and pussy and tits? Yeah? Starting to understand? All groundwork grooming for adventures that were still years into the future.

The quickest way to train a puppy is to pair her with an old dog who knows the ropes. I learned that from both Suzie Wagner teaching Maxine and Caryn’s stories about her mom teaching her how to sex her dad. Most of my grooming game was an extrapolation and slight modification on what Caryn’s dad had done to her.  He did the hard work. All I had to do was act something out on Caryn and it would start to seep into Dani’s consciousness.  All I had to do was invent a reason to get them both down in the basement for punishment every three or so months before the previous lesson faded from memory.

Like Caryn taught me: When you are a kid, after the third time it’s not weird any more. It’s just Daddy’s way.

Amen.

Late that night after the lights went out Caryn and I lay in bed I could tell she was restless.

“You need somethin’, hon?” I asked the darkness.

“Can we talk?”

“We’re talking.”

“Skip, five years old is a little young, don’t you think?”

“Too young for punishment or too young for sex?”

“Sex. She’s plenty old enough for spanking.”

“Did I sex my daughter?” I asked.

“I’m just saying, Skip.”

“I’m not sure what you’re saying at all, Caryn.”

“I- I don’t know. Just please be smart about it all. You’re smart. I guess maybe I’m projecting too much of my dad onto you and that’s not fair.”

It was totally fair. I was following a big chunk of her dad’s incest playbook.

“One more thing, Skip?” Caryn whispered. “Just a friendly tip?”

“What?”

“Shave your junk.”

“I do. I shave my balls. I trim.”

“No. Shave it all. Bare. No hair at all. Pubes freak out little girls. Even a little bit of pube.”

“Okay,” I turned this over in my head, both her helpful “tip” and the deeper implication of what Caryn was saying. 

We lapsed into a long, still silence. I was sure Caryn had fell asleep.

“Skip?”

“Yeah Doll.”

“There’s something wrong with me.”

“Your taste in pervy men?”

“Skip, when I saw all your game unfolding tonight, I wasn’t surprised, but I was definitely perturbed. But I no more went to hands and knees in front of your hard cock when my pussy just started juicing. Running down the inside of my thigh like a faucet.”

“Do tell,” I mumbled.

“That was a new high point for humiliation. Having to suck you while my daughter watched me slurp and moan like a slut.”

“You can’t help that you’re wired for humiliation, Caryn.”

“Skip, will you please lick me? Please?”

Caryn humped her bare pussy against my thigh and I could feel the wet warm squish of pussy juice.

Fucking slut.