Becoming Daddys Bitch

By Paul Vanden boogard

Published on Oct 7, 2021

Gay

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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.

Next: Chapter 7


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