Date: Thu, 7 Oct 2021 19:08:03 +0000 (UTC)
From: Paul Vanden boogard <cksckr4men@yahoo.com>
Subject: Becoming Daddy's Bitch - Chapter 6

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       Becoming Daddy's Bitch -- Chapter 6

The world seemed to spin sideways as I said the words, and it felt as
though I'd stepped out of myself and into someone else.
No, that wasn't right.  What it really felt like was that I'd stepped
out of who I had always thought I should be into who I really was,
and I gazed up at my dad with a new admiration, my nose buried between
his sac and his thigh as I sucked on his left nut, my cock
throbbing in affirmation of my newfound status.

I was Daddy's bitch.

        Daddy's slave.

I don't know how long I was there, licking and sucking, only that both
my face and his crotch were wet with my spit when he told
me to stop and put me to work, my cock at full attention when I was told
to stand.  He stroked it a moment, smiling, then sent me off
with his instructions, leaving me squirming and wanting so badly to cum.

I felt like I was in a dream as I emptied the refrigerator to wipe it
clean, not even thinking about the task I was performing.
I was a slave.  I was a naked slave.  My dad had turned me into his naked
slave.  Cleaning and folding and washing and scrubbing were
all just a part of that.  More important was that I had to serve him,
that I had to obey him, that not only was he my dad, he was my
Master, and not only was I his slave, I was his whore.

I wanted to be his whore.  His cock was so gorgeous, his balls so big and
beautiful.  It would be weird being my dad's slave
around my mom, but it was obvious that she knew all about it.  She had
known about it since the first time he fucked me.

And dad had told her that he would keep his promise....

I was going to be their slave.  Dad had said that I had to call my mom
"Mistress."

My cock was still hard as I put everything back into the refrigerator and
went to dust mop all the hardwood floors.  It was one
of my regular Sunday chores, only now I was doing it naked.  I didn't
know where my dad had gone, or what he was doing, but it didn't
matter.  I had been told what to do, so all I had to worry about was
doing it.

I was dust mopping in their bedroom when my dad walked into the house
from the garage.  Catching a glimpse of me, he stopped
and entered the room, walking around the end of the bed to come up behind
me.  I know that I tensed, afraid that I was going to be
reprimanded for something, but then I felt his hand on my ass and his
finger plunge up into my asshole, lifting me onto my toes and
forcing me to lean back against him as he reached around to give my cock
a hard squeeze.  Moaning out loud, I pushed myself further
onto his finger.

"That's a good little whore.  You're going to be a good little bitch
for your Master and your Mistress, aren't you?"

"Yes...yes, Master," I gasped.

And then he was gone, leaving me dizzy and wanting more.

His slave.  His whore.  Why was I happier now than I had ever been
before?

I don't even remember finishing the dust mopping, or even when I started
vacuuming.  I had only gotten as far as my bedroom
and his office, and was just coming down the hall when I heard him call
out "Get in here, bitch!"

Shutting it off, I hurried down the hall, finding him in his leather
chair with his jeans and his underwear dropped to his
ankles, and I was already on my way to his feet when he pointed to a spot
between them.  Dropping to my knees, I crawled between his
legs as he held out his hard, thick cock, eager to wrap my lips around
its head.

I knew my place.  I had no idea what would happen from moment to moment,
but I knew my place.  I was a slave and a whore.

I pushed myself down on it as far as a I could, and was able to get down
about half way, opening my jaw as far as I could.
Pulling back on it, I pushed myself down onto it again, almost gagging as
I tried to take it further and further each time.

"That's a good bitch.  I'm glad to see you're eager, but now I need
to train you how I want my cock to be sucked."

       He placed his hand on my head and grabbed a fistful of hair,
pushing me down until his cock filled my mouth and holding it there.
I started to gag, but he eased off a little.

       "I want to feel your tongue.  Soft and gentle."

       He held my head in place for several moments as I moved my tongue
up and down and back and forth, then started drawing me back.

       "Now up and down.  Long, slow strokes.  Keep that tongue moving.
That's it.  All the way to the head and back down again.
Not too hard with the tongue.  Soft and gentle.  You love my cock, bitch,
and the only thing you want to do is show me how much you
adore it."

       He guided my head up and down seven or eight times before he held
it in place again, with just the head of his cock between my
lips.  My eyes focused on his cock, I continued to lick and suck gently.

       "That's it, bitch.  You know that my cock owns you now.  Lick
that head.  Tickle the bottom of it and lick at that piss slit.
I want to see how grateful you are that I allow you the privilege."

       I hadn't known it, but it was true.  I was lucky to be his slave
and his whore, and I was very grateful to be sucking his massive
cock.  He was a man, a man above all men, and he deserved to have his
only son as his slave and his whore.

       "There.  Now lick you way down my shaft to my balls, and show my
balls how thankful you are."

       "Yes, Master," the thought ran through my head as I obeyed,
burying my nose in his crotch once more as I gently sucked his right
nut.  I loved the smell of his crotch, the coarseness of his pubic hair
as they brushed against my nose, and the warm, furry softness
of his sac.  My cock was throbbing so painfully that I was sure I was
going to cum, but I did my best to ignore it, trying fretfully to
focus my attention on his sac.  His hand still clenched in my hair, he
pulled me back up his shaft, my jaw spreading wide as he pushed
me back down onto his cock, holding me in place as I swirled my tongue.

       Releasing me, he left me to my own devices, and I lost myself in
sucking his cock, his cock filling my whole mouth for moment
after moment as my tongue caressed the bottom, then a slow, soft draw up
to its head and down again, eight, ten, twelve times.  I didn't
count, but settled at last on just it's head, wrapping my tongue around
it, teasing the little "V" underneath and gently probing his
piss slit.  Then up and down on it again.  Up and down, and up and down,
pushing myself onto his cock as far as I could before licking
down his shaft to his balls once again.  Over and over, until at last he
grabbed my head and pushed his cock forcibly into my mouth, his
breath growing deeper with each thrust until he started to groan and his
cock exploded, his thick, hot cum shooting into my throat and
splashing on my tongue.  I swallowed and tried to pull off, but he held
me there until, squeezing out the rest of his juices and letting
his cock soften in my mouth.

       "You're glad that I made you my slave, aren't you, bitch?"

       I gazed up at him and nodded, then returned my eyes to his crotch.

       "I want to hear you say it."

       Slipping my mouth from his cock, I replied.

       "Yes, Master.  I want to be your slave, Master."

       "I knew you would be.  I've been preparing you for this since
the day you were born."

       He had?

       I didn't know how, but I didn't really care.  He was right, I
wanted to be his slave.

       "Now finish your work and make me my lunch."

       "Y...Yes, Master."

       There was snow falling outside the window and I prepared the soup
and sandwiches, and part of me longed to go out in it, though
I knew I didn't really want to.

       I was naked.

       I was my dad's naked slave.

       My cock started to rise again, and I wanted so bad to stroke it
and play with it, and it was poking right out in front of me
when I served my dad his lunch.

       I sat and ate, then cleaned up the table and washed the dishes
while my dad went out into his shop.  I didn't know what else I
should do, so I sat in the living room and turned on the TV.  It was only
about half an hour before he came walking back in.

       "Turn that off and get off the chair."

       Setting down an armload of stuff, he sat in his chair.

       "Get over here and kneel next to my chair.  Here," he pointed to
a spot on his left.

       "Now that you understand your place, I'm going to lay down some
rules and expectations.  First of all, you have to understand
that you no longer have any rights, and you no longer have any freedoms.
Nor do you have any opinions, or make any choices.  The only
time you have any input is when you are asked a question.  Do you
understand?"

       I pulled my head between my shoulders and nodded.

       "Yes, Master."

       "Good.  Now get your hands out of your lap and put them behind
your back.  And spread your legs.  Whenever you kneel in front of
me, that's how I want you.  I want to be able to see that little dicklet
between your legs, watch it get hard as I humiliate you and
degrade you.  I can tell how much you like it.  I own that little dicklet
now, and it isn't yours to stroke or fondle without my
permission."

       He paused in his speech until I realized he was waiting for a
response.

       "Yes, Master."

       "The TV is off limits, as are the radios, and you already know
that you never touch my or your Mistress's computer.  Nor are you
allowed to go on any of the furniture.  Your place is on the floor.  I
will allow you to sit at the far end of the table when you eat,
for now, but that's a privilege that can easily be revoked."

       He paused again until I replied "Yes, Master."

       "It goes without saying that you will do everything that you're
told, period.  If you finish a task, and have no other tasks to
do, then you will kneel here next to my chair and wait for  my command.
I will allow you to use the bathroom whenever you need to, and
you will also be allowed to get a drink of water whenever you need to,
but you will always return immediately to whatever you were doing.
Do you understand all of that?"

       "Yes, Master."

"Any dissatisfaction on mine or your mistress's part, and you will be
punished.  Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master," I shuddered.  I knew what the punishment was going to
be.

"Now, there's some empty boxes in the hallway.  Go empty your room.  I
want everything out except the alarm clock."

My heart skipped a couple of beats as the whole reality of it set in.  He
had already taken away all of my clothes, and all of
my video games and such.  There was no reason for him not to take
everything else.  I was his slave, and a slave shouldn't be allowed
to have anything for himself.

"Y...Yes, Master!"

I didn't even think about things I was stuffing into the boxes, I just
knew that everything had to go.  I didn't really have
much, anyway, a few books and some CD's, a few art supplies and a
handful of toys and stuff I had gathered through my childhood.  My
dad strolled in a few minutes later with a dolly, and while I was
emptying my desk, he took away the empty dresser.

"Now strip the bed," he said as he returned, standing in the doorway as
I pulled of the comforter and the blanket, folding
them neatly aside before stripping off the sheets and the pillowcase.
Motioning me to put them in the laundry, I returned to find
the mattress pulled off onto the floor and him standing with the box
spring flipped onto its side.

       "Pick up the end.  It's going in the truck."

       Setting it in the truck bed, we then hefted the dresser up into as
well, then I was sent back to finish packing up the boxes
while he dismantled the bed.  Loading that, he then followed it with the
little night table that had been next to it, and finally the
desk.

       "Boxes in the truck."

       I knew that I was never going to see any of it again.

       He had left the blanket and the pillow on the mattress, but other
than that the room was completely empty save the alarm clock,
and I was given to understand that it was all that I was going to be
allowed, and that any of it could be taken away for any reason.

       "Down here, bitch," he pointed to the floor in front of him.  I
hurried over and knelt at his feet, shaking with anticipation
and just a little fear.

       "You're just a worthless little piece of shit, and what I'm
leaving you is more than you deserve.  You are just a slave, and
nothing more.  You understand me, whore?"

       I could see my cock start to swell and rise between my legs.
Knocking my knees apart with his foot, he pressed the tip of his
boot against it, obviously having seen it as well.

       "Now lick my boots and thank me, whore."

       "Yes, Master.  Thank you, Master."

       I dropped to all fours and started licking his boots, my cock
hardening beneath me to press against my abdomen.  I truly was
thankful, though I didn't really know why.  I only knew that this was
right, that this was what I was and this was how it was supposed
to be.  I didn't like licking his boots, didn't like feeling the dirt
and grit on my tongue, and yet I knew that what I liked and
disliked didn't matter.

       "Now turn around and stick that ass in the air.  When you knelt
in front of me, did you spread your legs and put your hands
behind your back?"

       I started shaking.  I had forgotten.

       "No, Master."

       "No, you didn't.  Do you think you should be punished for
that?"

       I almost started crying there and then.

       "Y...y... yes, Master."

       "Face on the floor."

       I yelped with the first strike of his belt, and the second as
well, then fought hard not to scream and cry, but by the eight or
ninth I couldn't help myself and started bawling.  I tensed for another
strike, but it didn't come.

       "Now kneel at me feet."

       I quickly took the correct position, my chin on my chest as tears
splashed from my cheeks.

       "Do you have something to say to me?"

       Something to say to him?  What would I say to him?  I wasn't
going to complain about being punished, because I'd just get punished
again.  I shook my head.

       "N...n...no, M...Master," I replied through my sobs.

       "Then go kneel in your spot next to my chair and wait for me.
And while you're there, think about why I had to punish you."

       I leapt to my feet and hurried down the hall, almost forgetting to
spread my legs again as I knelt on the carpet, spreading them
just in time as he appeared around the corner, hoping he hadn't
noticed.   He didn't speak, but scowled at me when I looked up at him
as
he strolled past me and out into the garage and his workshop.

       I realized that my heart was beating wildly.  I was frightened,
and excited, and confused all at once.  I knew why I had been
punished, and I guess that I had deserved it.  I just hadn't thought.  I
wanted to be a good slave, I just wasn't sure that I knew how.

       It was only a few moments later when I heard his truck pull out of
the driveway, and I glanced out the window to watch him drive
away with all my stuff.  Well, it wasn't my stuff anymore.  I didn't
have anything, now, but...but that was okay.  I was dad's slave, and
dad was going to use me for sex.

       I tried really hard to stay where I was, but it was hard to kneel
and sit back on my feet.  My ass was still really tender from
his belt whipping, and after a while my legs started cramping up, and my
knees hurt.  Glancing out the window, I got up and stretched,
then hurried to the bathroom to relieve myself.  I knew I should kneel
back in my spot again, but instead I stood by his chair and
watched out the window for him to return.  As soon as I saw the corner of
the truck through the trees, I knelt back in my spot,
diligently spreading my knees apart.

       He kicked his boots off in the back hall and hung up his jacket,
then headed for his bedroom to undress.

       "I want a beer ready when I come back."

       I leapt to my feet and hurried to set an open can on the table
beside his chair, then returned quickly to my spot.  He strolled
down the hallway in just his robe only a moment later.

       "Go take care of my clothes."

       "Yes, Master."

       I leapt to my feet again and hurried to his bedroom, hanging the
shirt and pants I found thrown across one of the chairs and
picking up his t-shirt, socks and underwear from the floor and running
them to the laundry.

       Settling back into my spot, I once again assumed the correct
position, with my legs spread apart and my hands behind my back.
Eager for his attention, I looked up at him.

       "Eyes on the floor."

       I obeyed immediately.

       "Never look me, or anyone, in the face.  Unless you are
performing a task, your eyes belong on the floor, on my feet, or on my
crotch, and you never raise your eyes above my chest in my presence."

       He fell silent until I issued a "Yes, Master."

       "Do you know why you were punished?"

       "Yes, Master."

       There was a long pause.

       "Well?" I could hear the ire in his voice.

       "I was punished because I forgot to spread my legs when I
knelt."

       There was another drawn out pause.

       "...when I knelt, Master!" he snarled.  "There's another
punishment you've just earned."

       I cringed, drawing my shoulders tight.

       "No, the reason you were punished was because when I instructed
you on how you were to kneel, you didn't think it was important
enough to remember.  Are you trying to tell me that what I tell you
isn't important?"

       I caught my breath and started shaking.

       "N...no, Master."

       "And weren't you told to always refer to me as Master?" he
admonished me threateningly.

       "Yes, Master," I replied meekly.

       "I'll ask you again.  Do you want to be my slave?"

       "Yes, Master!"

       "And do you know all there is to know about how to be a proper
slave?"

       No.  I didn't.  I shook my head, cringing a little again.
       "No, Master."

       "Then I think you should appreciate the time that I take to train
you, and be grateful that I of every way!"

       I didn't have a response to that.  No.  I did have a response to
that.

       "Yes, Master." I replied quietly.

       "Now kiss my feet and thank me for my punishment and my
instruction."

       I crawled quickly to his feet, burying my nose between them as I
started to lick, my mouth following them while they rose as he
put up the footrest, my lips wrapping around his toes to suck them.  I
did want to please my dad.  My Master.

       My Master!

       I realized in that moment that I couldn't think of him as my dad
anymore.

He was my Master.

       "Thank you for teaching me, Master," I said as I licked and
sucked.