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Becoming Daddy's Bitch -- Chapter 5
I was cold after crawling out of my nice warm bed, but was afraid to put anything on to keep me warm except the little girlie pink slippers. I crept down the hallway to see where he was, but he wasn't in the house, and at last I saw him working out by his shed. When I looked out the window, I could see that it was snowing.
I didn't have anything to do, so I sat on the couch and turned on the TV and started watching a movie on Netflix. I was only about twenty minutes into it when my dad flopped down on the couch next to me, reaching across me to take the remote.
"What are you watching?"
"Avatar...Sir."
"Go down there and take my boots off," he pointed to his feet.
Trying to keep my attention on the movie, I knelt on the floor and started to untie them, noticing that they were full of grass and mud. Tugging them open, I slipped them off his feet.
"Put those in the back hall and go get my slippers."
I didn't want to miss anything, so I hurried, and he had me put them on his feet when I returned.
"Now get the vacuum and clean this up," he indicated the mud he had left on the carpet with his finger.
"But..." I started in dismay, then heaved a sigh and ran to the pantry to get the vacuum cleaner, trying to catch glimpses of the movie while I vacuumed under his raised feet. Wrapping up the cord, I returned it to the pantry, then hurried back to watch the rest of the movie. I hadn't even sat down when he pointed to the hardwood floor behind him.
"Now I want the floor swept and scrubbed from there to the back door."
I whined. "But I wanna watch the movie!"
He pushed himself off the couch in one fluid motion, grabbing me by the hair with one hand as he undid his belt and slipped it off his pants with the other. Dropping back onto the, he threw me across his lap, his belt coming down on my ass with a loud smack. Screaming and struggling, I was bawling by the time he finished. My ass on fire, he dumped me unceremoniously onto the floor.
"That is the last time you will ever talk back to me. And the next time I don't hear a "SIR" at the end, you'll get my belt across your ass again. Do you understand?"
I was crying so hard I could barely answer.
"Y-yes...yes, S...S...Sir!"
"Now get going!"
I was in so much pain I had to crawl to get to my feet, stumbling through the kitchen as I went to get the broom and the pail. Barely able to see though my tears, I slowly swept down the hallway, then filled the pail with hot water and returned to scrub it, still sniffing and sobbing. At one point I saw him standing over me, and I cringed a little, but I didn't stop. Wringing out the rag and emptying the pail, I stood in the kitchen, afraid to go back into the living room where he could see me.
"In here. Now!"
My arms across my chest, I went to stand by the end of the couch, keeping well out of his reach. He had me kneel in front of him as he kicked off his slippers.
"Foot massage."
My back to the TV, I started rubbing his feet.
"I didn't hear you acknowledge me."
I cringed again.
"Yes, Sir."
"Unless you want to be punished again, I expect it every time."
"Yes, Sir."
He had me massage his feet until the movie came to an end, then sent me into the kitchen to prepare supper, instruction me every step of the way as he leaned against the counter with his phone. Setting the table and serving him, I winced as I sat on the chair, a fresh stab of pain emanating from my tender ass cheeks. As I did the dishes and wiped down the table, my dad travelling back and forth as he dropped all of his shoes and boots into the center of the kitchen floor. Pointing to the pantry, he had me take out the pail and the scrub rag and a stiff bristled brush, and I spent the next hour and a half on the kitchen floor, cleaning and polishing every pair, my ass still smarting from the beating he had given me.
"Now put them all away where the belong, then sweep and scrub the kitchen floor."
"Yes, Sir."
I felt like Cinderella, and my dad was the wicked stepmother. Ducking past him, I hurried to carry out his instructions.
I had no sooner emptied the pail when he called me to him. His was in sitting in his leather recliner watching a football game, showered and shaved and in just his robe and slippers, his belt lying on the end table next to him.
"Yes, Sir?" I replied shakily.
"Bring me a beer and a bag of potato chips."
"Yes, Sir."
Fetching them for him, I gave him the bag and set the bottle on the table next to his belt. Setting the bag aside, he flipped open his robe and spread his legs, pulling on his cock to lift his balls up and out. Giving me a meaningful glare, he pointed to his crotch.
I didn't want to, and wished that he would just leave me alone, but all it took was one glance at the belt to know that I didn't dare to disobey. Dropping to my hands and knees, I crawled between his legs and started licking his sac.
"Yeah, that's good whore. Always give my balls a good tongue bath first."
His sac was firm, his balls pulled up tight, and he smelled and tasted slightly of soap, with just a faint trace of his manly aroma underneath. His balls were huge, at least three times the size of mine, and though I hadn't wanted to at first, I found that I was happy to be licking them, the head of his thick cock pressing against my face as my own tiny cock pressed hard up against my abdomen. I heard him rip open the potato chip bag, could hear him crunching on the chips and sucking on his beer, paying little attention to me as he relaxed and watched TV while I licked and sucked on his nuts.
Just like a whore.
I couldn't help myself, but opened my mouth and slipped it around his thick, beautiful cock, reaching beneath myself to grab my own cock and squeeze it. Whatever else I hadn't liked for the last two days, I loved having his cock in my mouth, and I loved being fucked by him. I glanced up at him, over his rippled abdomen and his, hairy, muscular chest, as he tipped his beer bottle to his lips, glancing down only briefly before he took another drink and returned his attention to the television. I brought my eyes back down to his cock, to his thick, dark patch of pubic hair and the thick, vein covered shaft that protruded from my mouth, watching as it slid in and out between my lips. I swirled my tongue around its head, my feeling the pressure build in my balls as I stroked my own cock. Then suddenly I felt like I was about to cum.
I couldn't shoot it on the carpet, so I quickly rolled onto my back, pressing my cock to my stomach so it wouldn't spray all over. My eyes were closed so I didn't see my dad scowling down at me.
"Did I say that you could cum?" he barked at me.
I was shocked out of my euphoria.
"Uh...n...no, Sir."
He glared down angrily at me for a moment.
"Wipe it into your skin, then get your mouth back on my cock. I'll make sure that that never happens again!"
I did as I was told, and crawled back between his knees. It was harder to suck his cock, then, and I found that I no longer really wanted to. I also knew that I didn't have much of a choice, especially when his belt was lying on the table next to him.
It felt as though I sucked him for hours before he finally came, his thick, hot juices filling my mouth. I swallowed it, tasting its salty muskiness, then sat back on my feet.
"Can I stop now, Sir?"
"Go take a shower and get ready for bed."
I knew it was still fairly early.
"Can I have some ice cream first? Sir!"
"No. When you go a full day without misbehaving, I might consider it. Now do as you're told!"
I hung my head, remembering the beating from his belt, and went to carry out his instructions disconsolately, feeling insignificant as I crawled into my bed.
He woke me up at six again.
"Can I get dressed now?" I asked as I pushed off the covers. "Sir!" I almost forgot, but saw the scowl start to cross his forehead.
"No. There's nothing for you to get dressed in. Your closet and all of your drawers are empty."
"Huh?"
I pulled a drawer open and looked inside, then looked back up at him pleadingly.
"But..." I remembered him carrying boxes out of my room, and realized where my clothes had gone. "But, what about when mom comes home?"
Again, I almost forgot.
"Sir!"
"Then you'll be naked in front of her. Now shut that drawer and get your ass into the kitchen before I get my belt!"
I cringed and hurriedly shut the drawer, following him meekly as he turned to go to the kitchen, my thoughts swarming.
He was going to keep me naked! But that meant...
That meant that he wasn't going to let me go anywhere, that I'd have to stay in the house, naked, cleaning and cooking and...
And being his whore.
Could he do that? Why...?
"Pour my coffee."
My head was so full of questions that I almost didn't hear him, then hurried to do as I had been told, mumbling a shocked "Yes, Sir."
He sat at the table and I brought it to him, afraid to look at him as I set it in front of him.
As I set down the cup, he reached between my legs and started stroking my cock and balls. I started to pull away, but grabbed them hard and yanked me back to him.
"Don't ever pull away from my touch. I will touch you in any way that I want. Do you understand me?"
He squeezed my cock and balls harder, making me grunt in pain.
"Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Sir!" I replied. I was beginning to understand. I was beginning to understand everything.
"Spread your legs."
I knew I didn't have a choice, and reluctantly did as I was told, remembering to mumble a "Yes, Sir" at the last moment. Wetting his finger, he reached between my legs and pushed it up my asshole. I gasped, moaning in surprise and pleasure, my cock responding immediately by swelling until it stuck straight out in front of me.
"You like that, don't you?" he said as he stared up into my face.
"Yes, Sir," I replied, embarrassed.
"You understand what's going on now, don't you?"
My heart was beating wildly in my chest.
"Yes, Sir."
"Are you going to do anything about it?"
He meant like fight back, or try to escape, or try to take his phone and call someone. A part of me said that I should, but another part of me didn't want to, and I knew what would happen if I tried.
"No, Sir."
He twisted his finger as he moved it up and down inside of me."
"And are you going to be a good whore today?"
I blushed, feeling totally degraded.
"Yes, Sir."
I knew that it was the only answer I could give, the only answer that I wanted to give.
"Good. Now go use the bathroom, then make the beds, then I want you kneeling at my feet."
"Yes, Sir."
He was in the living room when I returned, still dressed in nothing but his robe. I knelt by his feet and looked up at him, waiting for him to acknowledge that I had obeyed. I was pretty sure that I knew what would happen if I hadn't. His eyes buried in a sports magazine, he waited several moments before he acknowledged me. Setting the magazine aside, he led me to the laundry room, and for the next twenty minutes he instructed me on how to do the laundry for my mom; what was machine wash, what was hand wash, and how everything was to be properly dried, hung, and folded. Once everything was either hanging or in the dryer, I was to return to his feet.
"Now you're going to kiss my feet. You're going to lick every inch, and suck every toe, and you are not going to stop until I tell you to."
I had to lick his feet?
I only hesitated a moment before dropping onto my hands, sticking out my tongue to lick the top of his foot, knowing that if I didn't I would likely see the end of his belt again. For a moment I thought about how they might smell, or how it would taste, but his feet smelled clean, and there was only a slightly salty taste as I licked down the side and up around his ankle. His feet were warm, and soft, and I liked the way they felt on my tongue as I licked down toward his toes, hesitantly taking the big one into my mouth to suck on it. I felt humiliated, but what was worse was that my cock was getting hard again.
I liked it. I liked the humiliation.
I wanted to jack off so badly.
I took the rest of his toes into my mouth, one at a time, sucking on them and licking between them, my cock throbbing painfully beneath me. I moved to his other foot and continued licking and sucking, remembering his finger up my ass and wanting his cock up there.
My god, I was a whore. I was enjoying this!
Glancing up for a moment, I realized that he was taking pictures of me with his phone, and I grunted in surprise. He glanced down at me and smiled.
"Don't worry. These are just for your mother. She's going to be very proud to see that you've learned your place. Or, at least, that you've started to."
That I've learned my place. The place of a naked slave for my mother and my father. I knew I should reject the idea, but I didn't want to, and I licked his foot more intensely.
"Now refill my coffee, get me my slippers, then make me my breakfast."
"Yes, Sir."
I couldn't hide my erection as I stood, and I blushed as my dad smiled.
I served him his bacon and eggs and toast, and sat meekly at the table as I ate mine, afraid to say anything and somehow knowing it wasn't my place to unless he spoke to me first. I was told to wash the dishes and finish the laundry, then to kneel at his feet and ask to lick his balls once they were complete.
"Can I lick your balls, Sir?"
My cock was already sticking straight up between my legs.
He had returned to his chair in the living room, lounging back in it with his robe open and his legs spread as browsed his magazine.
"Yes," he glanced down at me, smiling again as he noticed my erection.
I crawled between his legs and started licking, the musky smell of his crotch filling my nose.
Why did I like this? Why did I want this?
Because it was sex.
Because it was my dad!
I sucked on his ball to lift his sac so I could snake my tongue under it.
"That's a good whore. This is your reward for being an obedient bitch, and if you convince me that you're grateful for it, I might allow you to suck my cock."
I stared at his cock as I sucked on his nut, watching it as it slowly swelled and suddenly finding myself yearning to have it in my mouth, my own cock so hard that it hurt.
Should I talk? Should I say I was grateful?
I didn't know what to say, so I just buried my nose in his crotch and kept licking and sucking.
"I am your Master now, and I expect you to be grateful for it every moment of your life. The only thing that's important to you is your mother and I, and your submission and subservience. Do you understand what that means?
I paused a moment as I thought.
"Yes, Sir."
"It's `Yes, Master' from now on. And you will refer to your mother as Mistress."
I sucked gently on his nut for a moment, then replied.
"Yes, Master."
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