Questions & Answers - Part 1  

Story Codes - pedo, nc, bdsm


When she finally came round, Carolyn Harper had no idea where she was or how she’d got there. Her head pounded though and there was an unpleasant chemical taste in her mouth, and she thought she might be lying face down. Carolyn wondered if she’d passed out and tried to open her eyes and see, but trying caused her headache to increase and the bright light of the world seemed to send white hot needles into her eyes.

Nausea rose in her throat but she swallowed it down, a hand reflexively reaching up to cover her mouth except the hand wouldn’t move, nor would the other or her feet. Carolyn felt a brief squirt of terror as she wondered if she’d fell and maybe been paralyzed but the idea was absurd. She could feel her fingers and toes moving so, unless it was her imagination playing tricks, she was still able-bodied.

She tried opening her eyes again and this time managed to squint through a tiny slit, groaning at the pain in her head and eyes.

She was in a room with bare brick walls and a wooden floor. The room seemed empty. Carolyn gingerly, almost nervously, turned her neck and that’s when she saw herself in the long, high mirror mounted in the wall to her right. Above it, angled down on her, the impassive eye of a camera regarded her, a small red light blinking below the lens.

The pain was forgotten as she took her situation in with a kind of dumb fascination.

She was tied to a frame formed of tubular steel that made her think of scaffolding, laid across the boxy steel shape with the padded cushion on the top underneath her and thick belts across the small and middle of her back securing her there. The cushion was short and wide, supporting her well but leaving her breasts swinging and her ass over the other end. Her wrists were bound to two poles that pushed up and apart either side of the padded top, raising them behind her, back and up, making look like she was in a swan dive. A cross piece at the rear of the construction acted like a spreader bar, her ankles cuffed to each end, spreading her wide. She pulled at her restraints and felt no give whatsoever against their mounting points on the frame.

She was also entirely naked.

 At the back of the room, a door opened and footsteps made their way to her. She felt fingertips trail a path from the swell of her ass, along her back and through her hair and she gave an involuntary whimper. Fear began to crystallize into hard terror inside her head.

‘Hello, Carolyn,’ said the man as he walked round to stand in front of her. He looked somewhere in his 30s, tall and quite muscular, with short, black hair and an open, kind face. His eyes, though, told another story, regarding her with the same kind of cold indifference as she imagined a slaughter man might show as he approached a cow.

Carolyn said nothing just stared at him.

The man made a face. ‘Hostile,’ he remarked. ‘Well, I can’t say I blame you, all things considered. My name is Matthew, but you’ll be calling me ‘sir’ for the duration of our time together. When I talk, you will listen, and when I ask a question you will answer it, alright?’

Carolyn stayed silent but Matthew nodded approval anyway. ‘Silence is consent,’ he said with a smile.

He walked out to the wall opposite the mirror on Carolyn’s left and she strained to follow him with her eyes.  It was lined with cupboard and drawers, and Matthew was standing with a small, wheeled wooden table that he was loading with items he was taking out of them.

He returned, pushing the cart in front of him, the wheels rumbling on the floorboards. Wide-eyed, Carolyn looked at what he’d brought back with him. The canes and straps she recognized, along with clamps and weights, but other things were beyond her experiences. She realized she was hyperventilating about the same time as she felt panic crowd at the edge of her mind.

‘Now,’ Matthew continued, ‘what’s your last memory before you woke up here?’

Panic seized her.

‘Where am I?’ she asked. ‘I don’t remember – What’s happened? My kids, are they okay?’

Matthew made a ‘hmmm’ sound, picked a wide leather strap off the top of the table and doubled it over in his hand. Without fanfare he walked behind Carolyn. She heard the swish and then gave a stunned gasp of pain as the leather cracked down across her ass cheeks. The pain was all-consuming, bright and ferocious, stealing the air from her lungs. The belt came down a second time and Carolyn managed to make a strangled cry in response. Her ass instantly felt like something white hot had been laid over it, searing her flesh. Hot tears ran from her eyes and she again pulled at her restraints which gave not an inch.

Matthew returned to stand in front of her, laying the belt back down on the trolley.

‘Maybe I wasn’t clear,’ he offered in an even tone. ‘I ask, you answer. I’ll ask again; what’re the last things you remember?’

Carolyn looked at him wide-eyed. She suddenly needed to pee and possibly throw up. She swallowed and told him.

Her memory snapped back to the night before. She’d gone out for a few drinks with some friends, a Friday night like any other, leaving Samantha, a young student who was Carolyn’s regular sitter, to look after her kids. She had three, Amanda, Joshua and Daniella who were 3, 4 and 11, respectively. Drinks had been drunk, an evening had been enjoyed and she’d come home to find all was well. Sam was paid and went home and Carolyn, tipsy but far from drunk, had spent a little time on the net, smoked a joint or two with a nightcap and then, feeling nicely stoned, gone to bed.

‘That’s all I can remember,’ Carolyn said, panic still nibbling away in her head.

With a show of mild exasperation, Matthew stood took up the belt again and walked out of sight behind Carolyn.

‘No, wait! I answered you!’

This time the belt left it’s agonies on her thighs, twice on each in turn. When Matthew returned, again laying the belt aside, Carolyn was crying openly, gasping for breath as her body shook with the pain and shock.’

‘As I said, my name is Matthew but you will be calling me ‘sir’ for the duration of our time together. Alright?’

Carolyn licked her lips and took a shuddering breath. ‘Yes sir.’

‘Better,’ Matthew said. ‘The more you co-operate, the sooner this unpleasantness will be over with. Agreed?’

Carolyn felt a hundred questions fighting to get out of her and whilst she was frightened by what was happening to her, not knowing what was going on with her children required her to bite hard on the panic and rage that threatened to cascade out of her.

Instead, she nodded. ‘Yes sir.’

 ‘There, that wasn’t too hard, was it?’ Matthew chided. ‘Carry on like that and we’ll get along just fine.’ He gave her a smile. ‘So, tell me about Amanda and Josh.’

A voice in her head demanded she ask this stranger, this fucking psychopath, how he knew the names of her children, but she thought better of it. If he knew their names, she reasoned, he likely knew an awful lot more anyway.

‘Amanda is 3, Joshua is 5,’ she answered and added a hasty ‘sir’ on the end.

‘Where’s their father?’

She took a shaky breath, a spear of pain and regret lancing into her heart. ‘We… split up, sir.’

‘Why?’

A flare of rage lit inside Carolyn at having to tell this man anything and she hated him with a passion she hadn’t felt in years for making her so helpless. ‘We just grew apart, sir,’ she said through clenched teeth.

‘God, you’re a slow learner,’ Matthew muttered and stood again.

‘Sex,’ Carolyn cried out. ‘we split up because of sex, sir!’

‘More,’ Matthew said, picking up the belt, curling it back and forth in his hands as he stood looking at her.

‘I don’t like sex, sir, that’s all,’ she said in exasperation. ‘He did.’

‘Anal or vaginal?’

‘Vaginal, sir,’ she admitted in a low, embarrassed voice. “Never had anal. Never wanted to.’

Matthew look surprised. ‘Did he?’

Carolyn nodded.

‘How did you please him, then?’

Her lips trembled as she suffered the indignity of his questions and the memories of her failure to the only man she’d had a relationship with in her whole life. ‘Mouth. Hands.’

Matthew considered. ‘Then how did you have children without sex?’

‘Artificial insemination, sir,’ she muttered, looking down at the floor.

‘So eventually he got tired of you and went off to find someone who’d open her legs as well her mouth?’ Matthew asked, putting the belt down.

‘He’s a – a good man. It wasn’t his fault. He looks after his kids, sees them whenever he wants. A good man, I just… I just couldn’t make him happy.’ She paused, looked up at him. ‘Sir,’ she said with effort and Matthew smiled at her.

‘And he’s the father to Amanda and Josh, yes?’

Carolyn went still and felt a cold shudder run along her back at what she knew the next question would be. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘So tell me about Daniella.’

Carolyn blinked, confused by the question. ‘Why? I mean, I’m sorry, I mean I don’t understand why you want to know all this. Sir, I mean. I’m sorry.’

Matthew held up a hand. ‘Relax. It’s alright. I can understand your confusion so let me explain. How old are you?’

‘Twenty four,’ she answered.

‘How old is Daniella?’

Carolyn hesitated, seeing where this was leading. ‘She’s 11.’

‘So you gave birth to her when you were 13,’ Matthew stated. ‘So how old were you when she was conceived?’

Carolyn felt another, entirely different kind of headache strike up a beat right behind her eyes. ‘Please,’ she said in a small voice as memories of pain and humiliation crowded for space in her head along with the current ones. ‘Don’t. I can’t.’

‘How old, Carolyn?’ Matthew repeated in the same flat, even tone. He waited a few seconds and then made to walk behind her again.

‘I was… 12… sir,’ she said, eyes squeezed shut, almost spitting the words out.

‘Good girl,’ Matthew whispered and he stroked her hair like she was a pet. A shudder of revulsion rippled through Carolyn’s body at his touch, but if Matthew noticed he didn’t care. ‘So, who was the father?’

Carolyn simply broke down into tears, wailing in between taking great shuddering gulps of breath as her eyes reddened and her face flushed. ‘Why are you doing this to me?’ she screamed as memory after agonizing memory paraded inside her mind’s eye.

‘Oh,’ said Matthew mildly, ‘maybe not such a good girl after all.’

The lever clamps were elongated U shapes with two hard, black rubber pads facing each other. The legs of the clamps were placed either side of the flesh behind each of Carolyn’s nipples, and then two thumb levers were pushed down, bringing the pads together. At their medium setting, they gripped tight enough that they would be hard to simply pull off, but at their most severe position, those hard rubber pads would actually touch with nothing between them. With Carolyn’s tender, sensitive flesh crushed between them, the pads would actually be pushed further apart then they would naturally be and so, over time, would maintain the pressure, moving incrementally closer together as skin and tissue was compressed.

She screamed as they went on and it took a few minutes for her to stop once they were in place. The pain was indescribable, sending her sense into disarray as she tried to find somewhere to put it all. She’d never felt anything like this and a small part of her knew that she might likely be physically damaged if they were left on too long.

‘So, who was the father?’ Matthew asked again.

It took a few seconds for Carolyn to bring her crying under control and even then her answer was strained and tremulous, a raw edge of sorrow in the tone that spoke of more tears barely held back.

‘I don’t know, sir’ she said, shaking her head almost imperceptibly.

Matthew took a length of cord and two small steel clips of the sort that might attached a key ring to a belt loop. Squatting down, Matthew ran the cord round one of the cross poles near the base of the box she was lashed to and then tied a clip to each end.

‘I like hurting you, Carolyn,’ he whispered and leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. ‘You make such lovely sounds.’

He clipped one end of the rope through the end of one of the U clamps and then pulled it hard down, giving him enough slack to attach clip at the other end of the cord to the second clamp. Carolyn’s breasts were pulled hard down, the nipples pulled beyond taught.

She screamed again and Matthew waited patiently for her to get some control back. He didn’t berate her, didn’t huff and puff or even look bored as her cries of anguish tailed off. Instead, Matthew looked like he was exactly where he wanted to be and doing exactly what he enjoyed doing.

‘You see, I know already Carolyn, which is why you should stop lying to me. You’re just going to suffer. Now, the story was that you’d been to a party you were told not to go to and either willingly had sex or gotten too drunk to remember being raped, and that’s how you got pregnant. But that’s not what you said at the time, is it?’

Carolyn shook her head, wincing as even that small movement set of nerve endings in her nipples.

‘No,’ she said simply and then corrected herself. ‘No sir.’

‘Who did you blame?’

‘My father,’ she said without emotion, her eyes far away and her mind even further. And so she told the truth of her lie.

 

Carolyn remembered swimming up from a sleep do deep it was like a weight on her. Confusing noises and movement filtered into her numbed sense. There was pain, a sense of being split and torn and she opened her eyes to look into the clenched face of her father. He was naked, lying on top of Carolyn, her legs pushed up and apart by his body being between them, hands propping himself up either side of her head and she could feel him moving in and out of her, driving in and out really, and every thrust hurt.

‘Dad?’ she said in a voice thick with confusion. Her bedside light was on and Carolyn saw with a kind of surreal detachment, the book she’d been reading, the empty cup that had held her hot chocolate, a hairbrush and the clock radio. The time was just shy of 2am.

‘Shhh, baby, shhh,’ Irwin Harper had said and she thought there was an air of panic in his voice. ‘It’s ok, baby. Go back to sleep,’ he’d said, his voice breathless and ragged, and he’d kept pounding in and out regardless.

‘Please, stop,’ Carolyn had managed to say, trying to make sense of it all. ‘Stop, dad. No more, no more,’ and her voice had started to get louder as she tried to sit up.

Irwin clamped a hand over her mouth, pushing her head back down. ‘Shut the fuck up, Carolyn. Just shut your fucking mouth. Soon be all over, okay?’

She’d stared at him, suddenly terrified, feeling him deep inside her, her flesh shoved aside to make space in her body. The pain was amplified by how wrong it felt, how abnormal. She was a virgin with no notion of how her first time would feel beyond second hand accounts and bad fiction, but should it feel like this or did it feel like this because of the fact it was her father having sex with her? But it wasn’t even sex, was it? He was fucking her, wasn’t he, actually fucking his daughter? It seemed ludicrous that it could be happening even as it did.

Carolyn suddenly felt sick, the scent of cigarettes from his hand filling her mouth and the same smell mixed with booze heavy on his breath filling her nostrils as he panted into her face. She choked, began to thrash, but Irwin simply grabbed her wrists, pinning them either side of her head.

And then he smiled. ‘Fight all you want,’ he said with a sudden hard shine in his eyes. ‘We stop when I’m good and fucking ready, you understand? Huh?’ He shoved his face into hers, tried to kiss her, his tongue trying to force itself into her mouth. She spat in disgust, thrashing her head from side to side, and suddenly she had both her wrists above her head, one of his hands holding them both hard against the headboard. Her father’s free hand took a fistful of her hair and held her head still as he tried again.

With his hand gone from her mouth, Carolyn began to cry and yell, calling for help and imploring her father to stop. In response, the hand in her hair smacked her hard across the face. The world spun and white sparks fired in her vision.

‘Shut your fucking whore mouth before I give you something to fill the hole with,’ Irwin hissed at her and Carolyn felt his rhythm increase, the strokes shortening as their speed increased. His mouth crushed against hers again and this time she was too dazed by his slap to resist. She tasted his lips, his spit, the drink and the dirty smell of tobacco as the fat, wet mass of his tongue shoved greedily into her mouth and she felt it squirm around her teeth and her own tongue. An image of slugs popped suddenly into her head and Carolyn felt bile in her throat.

Her father broke the kiss, raising his head and she saw his wet lips, saw his tongue poke out between them and lick, savouring the taste. ‘Jesus, you’re sweet, baby, so fucking sweet,’ he moaned softly, and plunged into her with renewed enthusiasm. ‘Daddy loves you, baby, daddy loves you. Soon be over. It’s okay. Soon be over.’

Carolyn didn’t know how much longer it went on for, though she didn’t think it was long. She just lay there, stunned and shocked into something that was less inaction and more a kind of paralysis. She turned her head to side and just… went away. She didn’t come back until she felt her father cum inside her, a suddenly gush of liquid heat that sent a wave of utter disgust and revulsion through her entire body, and then she began to cry with a quiet intensity.

Irwin slid easily out of his daughter, leaving what felt like a tunnel in his wake. Carolyn felt like he’d bored into her and that between her legs would be a ragged, gaping hole.

‘Go back to sleep now, Carolyn,’ her father said in a breathless, suddenly subdued voice. ‘Just forget this happened, alright? And don’t tell anyone or believe me, you’ll wish you hadn’t. I’m trusting you, Carolyn, trusting you to do the right thing, understand me?’

Her father stood, picked up his robe from the floor by the side of the bed and turned his back to Carolyn as he shrugged it on. He seemed to contemplate something for a few seconds, stood in front of her facing her bookcase but unable to face his daughter.

‘I’m trusting you to do the right thing, Carolyn,’ he repeated, pulling the blankets up over his daughter again, and with that he slipped quietly from her room. His daughter curled slowly into a ball and cried until exhaustion and shock allowed sleep to sneak in and take her away. At some point she woke with a start, smelling the lingering bitterness of cigarettes and alcohol in the room, but her father wasn’t there to be seen.


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