Her New Name—The Beginning

(MMF/F, ds, humil, blackmail, oral, inc, fath/dau)

by SM

 

**The events and the people in this story are fictitious, although some of the events are based on real experiences.  You can guess which is which.  Good luck!**

 

 

About 5 years after the divorce, Kari found herself short of money, so she started looking in the ads to see what was available.  The ad that caught her eye was for housecleaning, which listed a rather high pay rate, and even mentioned “with extra personal touches, bonuses are also given.  The more you give in to the task with every bit of yourself, the more bonuses you’ll receive.”

 

She didn’t know what to think about the way “give in” and “every bit of yourself” were highlighted in bold and italic print.  But, it would be a way to catch up the deficit in her budget.  Her salary with the library was consistent, but small, and there was no way to get any bonuses, which had brought her to this choice in the first place.  She really couldn’t stand asking for more help from her parents, because that was always more emotionally costly than it was worth, and since the kids had grown up and gone to college, her parents really didn’t seem to want to be with her much.  They hadn’t ever gotten along when she was growing up, and they only seemed to want to take advantage of her so they could be with their grandkids whenever they wanted.

 

So, here was a way out.  She punched out the number on her cell phone, and when they answered, she made an appointment.

 

That part was easy.  The appointment went well, although, she did notice that there seemed to be a lot of sexual tension in the room when she was with the husband and wife who were hiring her.  In fact, on her way home, she wondered why it had been so easy.  She hadn’t done any professional cleaning in the past, and she was sure there were others who did that in the community.  The two interviewers were very pushy about what she was to wear “so that if any guest come by while you are here, they won’t be offended” so they had said.  They also mentioned that they had the wife’s father living with them in the apartment over the garage, but they didn’t have any children, which pleased Kari since, after all, kids can be pretty messy.

The dress code requirements were kind of revealing, more like a sexy maid’s costume than working clothes.  Low-cut blouse, always wearing stockings with a garter and heels, and the dress or skirt length requirement was almost embarrassing.  She was sure that the cheeks of her ass would be showing below the edge of her dress, and that when she bent over, her panties would show.

But the pay was very good and it would meet the need for her budget, so she went along with all that.

 

The first week was the usual experience of getting to know the details of a new job with plenty of instruction and explanation.  Desirae, the wife, was very pushy and intimidating and made rather embarrassing comments during that first few days, some of them even sexual innuendoes.  But since Kari had been sheltered from sexual experiences up until she got married, she was naively willing to just pretend that it wasn’t significant.  Her ex had become very frustrated at her lack of willingness to face things and deal with issues, especially about sex, and that had played a large part in the divorce.

 

  The second week went about the same as the first, except that she was picking up on what needed to be cleaned, so there was less instruction.  Also, she met the wife’s father, whose name was Fred.  He seemed to be very interested in the details of her life, asking if she was single, and so on.  She was told that whatever he said to do she was expected to do in their place, since they worked a lot and he might be the only one in the house while she was working.  This made her a bit uncomfortable, but she got paid, and since they said she had worked hard there was a small bonus added to her hourly rate, so she decided to go along with it.

 

However, the third week changed everything.

 

She had been told to come and clean on Friday evening, and since she wasn’t working that weekend and the library, she decided that was fine.  After she had started cleaning, the wife’s father came into the room where she was working, and came up on her left side, putting his hand on her right thigh and pulling her close to him. 

 

“Hi, there, you sexy thing,” he breathed into her ear. 

 

Startled, she blushed and replied, “uh . . . hello.”  

 

He slipped his hand down on her leg below that embarrassing skirt, and then slid it up under it until he felt her panties. 

“You should wear sexier panties, you know . . . like French-cut style, or thongs—or maybe even a g-string, sexy thing like you should . . . who knows what kind of bonus you’d get if you did.” he said. 

 

“uh . . . yes, sir,” she blushed.

 

Then he reached under her blouse with his other hand, and felt her bra and even pinched her nipple lightly.  She gasped, and tried to pull away, but he pulled her tightly against him. 

“You should wear one of those push-up bras, and if you don’t have any of those, you can skip the bra altogether.”

Looking at him with some panic, she said, “I can’t afford those bras . . . they are expensive.”

“No problem, so skip the bra next time.  In fact, take both your panties and your bra off now, since they are not acceptable for this job.”

She looked at him in confusion, blushing even harder than before.  “What do you mean?”

“I thought I was very clear.  Take your panties and bra off now.  Or, working here is over for you.”

 “But . . . but,” she sputtered.

“Well, ok, then, since my daughter and her husband are home now, you can explain why you didn’t obey me.”

 

She hadn’t noticed the garage door opening and closing, but the husband and wife came in the door to the garage into the room where Fred held her. 

“Hi, Fred . . . Kari . . . how’s it going?”

 

“Well, we have a little problem,” Fred said bluntly.  “Kari is refusing to do what I commanded.”

 

They stiffened and looked at her.  “So, what are you refusing to do?” the husband, Bob, asked.

“He . . . uh . . . said to take off my bra and . . . and panties . . . uh  . . . because they aren’t the right kind . . . he said.“

Looking at her directly and sternly, “then if you don’t do that right now, you’re fired!”

 

“NO! . . . please! . . . I’ll do  . . . do it.”  She tried to pull away from his grasp.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

 

“I . . . uhm . . . was going to go into the bathroom to take off . . . “

 

“No one said you could go anywhere . . . take off your bra and panties.”

 

“Here, you mean?”

 

With a rather cruel sounding laugh, Desirae said, “well, DUH!”

 

Kari looked at them, trying to see a way out, but the only way out was to lose the job, and she needed the extra money . . . so, there really wasn’t a way out.

 

“uhm . . . ok,” she said weakly, hoping that would satisfy them.

 

“OKAY? . . . then take off your bra and panties . . . here, let me help you, you frigid bitch!”  Desirae reached out and grabbed her mini-dress and pulled it up.  Kari, in panic, grabbed it and tried to pull it down again.

Desirae made a sound almost like a growl, and slapped her across the face.

“Don’t you EVER stop ME, AGAIN, BITCH!  Do YOU HEAR ME?”

 

“ . . . yes . . . “

 

“Yes?   Yes, WHO?”

 

“uhm . . . yes . . . Ma’am,” Kari said timidly.

 

Then Desirae pulled her mini-dress up until it covered her face, and it also effectively tied her arms above her head.  Then she reached down and grabbed Kari’s panties by the crotch--and pulled them out.

 

“WELL, well, well . . . what do we have here? . . . your panties are soaking wet! . . . this turns you on, doesn’t it?”

 

“NO!”

 

“Oh?”  She pulled the soaked panties aside and thrust two fingers up inside Kari’s pussy with a sloppy sound. 

 

“Not turned on, are you?  So, what is all this cunt juice doing out here for everyone to see?”

 

Blushing, Kari could only be thankful that the dress was covering her face.  But, all the same, she couldn’t remember being turned on like this since . . . since . . . well . . . when her ex-husband had spanked her.

 

“uh . . . well, maybe a little.”

 

Desirae made a snorting sound and reached up and pulled Kari’s dress all the way off.  Grabbing Kari’s hand, she pulled it down to her soaked panties and steamingly soaked pussy.  Then she took her own hand and put her cunt-juice soaked fingers right in front of Kari’s lips and under her nose.

 

“Taste THAT!”

 

Humiliated and cowed, Kari slowly reached out with her tongue and tasted the pussy juice on Desirae’s fingers.  To her surprise, it was sweet . . . and her cunt tingled and twitched in arousal under her own hand, so she jerked her hand away.  But, the scent of her arousal was also evident in the moisture added to her already soaked panties. 

 

“So, ARE YOU TURNED ON OR WHAT?”

 

“ughm . . . I guess.”

 

“SO-OOOOO, . . .  ARE YOU TURNED ON OR WHAT?”

 

“uhm . . . yes.”

 

“YES WHO?”

 

“yes, Ma’am.”

 

All three of them started to laugh as she blushed even more.

 

“So, bitch . . . take off your bra and your panties . . . and then we’ll see if we have any use for you.”

 

 

In the back of her mind, her sexual desires were igniting at a level that she’d never let happen before, even with her ex-husband—who had clearly seen her hidden sexual desires.  That had scared her enough that she had fought him to the point of the divorce after 20 years of marriage.  Now she wasn’t sure that had been a good choice, but it was too late to change that choice.

Growing up, her parents had been very shaming about everything sexual, and she was vaguely aware that they had used sex as a weapon to fight each other, too.  Her father was a minister in a large church in the Bible belt, and all he seemed to care about was his public image, so he pretended to be a “good” person almost all the time, at least when anyone else was watching.  Her mother had great public status because of that, so she was vicious in her demands that he and Kari act like she told they to act, no matter what they felt at the time. 

In fact, her mother may have been a sociopath, because she would do anything to get what she wanted, no matter what it cost anyone else.  She had manipulated Kari’s dad to the point that whatever her mom wanted, he would do, because he knew that if he didn’t do it, the cost of her revenge would be twice or 3 times as much as it would have taken to just go ahead and do it.  Her dad was a puppet to her every whim.  She had control of everything.  If he didn’t agree, then she’d just do things her way, anyway, no matter what had been agreed upon or discussed.  She didn’t know that he had turned his frustration and anger about it onto Kari in secret.

Kari had taken that method into her marriage, but at the same time had chosen a guy to marry who she had thought was strong enough to overcome her parents’ hold on her.  He was, actually, that strong, but since she couldn’t stop herself from trying to repeat the pattern of her mother’s manipulation, he confronted her time and again.  Using her mother’s method of avoiding confrontation, but manipulating for control, she had tried to “pull him into place,” but he was to strong to allow that.  He had finally given up and left.

 

The result of her parents’ hidden war for control was a living hell growing up in that household.  It wasn’t a “home”—it was a household, Kari knew.  As a teen, she’d been given lots of chores to keep her busy so she could never get them done in time to go out on any dates—and they had never instructed her about how to do those chores, and they were never satisfied with the results of her efforts.  They had hammered into her over and over that if she screwed up and got pregnant that it would destroy her father’s career—and the financial security that came with it, so even talking about sex was not allowed.  Not ever.  So, she grew up with a very skewed idea that sex was the worst thing in the world, and it wasn’t natural or even acceptable to even think about it, much less to do something sexual. And, God forbid that she would actually want it.

 

So, in the back of her mind, the only way she could fulfill any sexual desires or needs was to be forced into it, so she wasn’t responsible for what happened. 

 

“It wasn’t my fault!” rang in the back of her mind.  Many times, she had imagined being used by the sexy guys—and sometimes other girls--and raped and gang-banged when they grabbed her on her way home from school.  But that fantasy had never become real.  She was so inhibited that she could only masturbate in the shower after she got so horny that she couldn’t stand it, since she knew no one else was watching. 

Her ex-husband had asked her to do “unthinkable” slutty things,  . . . asked her to talk slutty . . . told her to “finger-fuck” herself in front of him--and this had created such anxiety that she had picked fights with him about anything she could think of in order to stop herself from doing that willingly.  “Willingly” meant that she wanted sex, which was something to be ashamed of according to her parents.  She could never quite let go and do anything sexual willingly.  That would be to be responsible for it, and she’d been shamed more times than she could remember for even thinking of things like that, so she just couldn’t do it . . . just couldn’t.

 

Her ex had asked her to buy a short miniskirt or mini-dress and then they had gone on a walk around the neighborhood streets at night in San Antonio.  He had pulled up the back of her already-too-short mini-dress and rubbed her ass as they walked down the street, and she had argued with him.  But, her cunt had gotten so wet from him doing that, that she couldn’t deny to herself that it made her VERY horny. 

They had turned down the path by a canal, and he had stopped her, turned her towards him, thrust two middle fingers on his right hand into her cunt, pulled her towards him so her hands went to his shoulders, and—to her enormous surprise, he lifted her off the ground by her cunt that way.  As soon as her feet left the ground, she started cumming . . . and cumming . . . and cumming . . . until everything went black when she passed out from so many strong orgasms.  He had waited a bit, and then splashed some water on her face to wake her up.  Then he laughed about how sexy it was to watch her cum until she passed out.  The thought that he had so much control over her, and that her sexuality had been so open and expressed made her scared . . . and to cover it, she turned it to anger and lashed out at him.  That was the fight that eventually ended their relationship.

 

Ironically, he was the sexiest guy she’d ever known, at least in terms of making her cum.

 

Here, again, she was being forced, and that made her pussy hot and drippy with her juices.  Being forced satisfied all the requirements of it not being her fault, so her desires exploded with a vengeance.  Still, she had to make sure that she did ‘nothing’ to make it happen, so she could not be accused of being the cause of it.

 

Nobody else knew the secret, but starting at about age 7, her father had often come into her bedroom, sometimes in the afternoons while her mom was at work, or sometimes during the night when her mother was supposedly asleep.  He had forced her to suck him off and swallow his cum, and he often called her humiliating names.  

“Suck it, slut! . . . you’re just a whore, and a fuck-toy, a cock-sucking sex slave! . . . that’s all you’ll ever be . . . when you get old enough, your cunt will think for you, and you’ll lust after hard cocks and wet pussies of other women . . . maybe a bi-sexual slave,  . . . a cumdump  . . . a slutty substitute for another woman’s lover . . . if you get past high school without getting pregnant, that will be a miracle. ”  The way he had said that made her think that he actually wanted her to get pregnant—“knocked up,” as they say. 

Sometimes, he would pull his cock out of her mouth and spray his cum all over her face and glasses.  Then he turned her toward the mirror and showed her what it looked like to have cum all over her face.  “Now, THAT’s what a slut looks like,” he said, “and you’re a slut.”

At first, this was an embarrassing shock to her, but after that first time, her pussy would tingle and get wet—and when she was young, she didn’t know what that meant.  But later, when she started to learn about sex at school, she knew it meant that her body liked it.

From then on, she decided that her body wanted her to be humiliated, and since she couldn’t stop herself from getting turned on, she came to the conclusion that eventually the day would come that her humiliation would take over completely and she would be at her own body’s mercy.

 

Later in life, she had often wondered if her mom actually knew about all that and got off on his molesting her, since her mom had clearly manipulated her father with sex all the time, and had total control of everything else in their lives.  But, all the same, she had taken those words into her heart.  She was, in her inner most level, “a slut . . . a whore . . . a bitch . . . a fuck-toy . . . a cock-sucking sex slave . . . a bi-sexual slave . . . a cum-dump,” and so on, so she’d lusted about getting “knocked up” almost every day all the way through high school.

 

In private, she’s often gotten very hot and aroused even thinking of the images of what he’s said, and one part of her, a hidden part, often hoped that it would come true one day.  In fact, she loved every minute of sex with her father, loving the taste of his cock, the taste of his cum, and even thinking about it all day long afterwards, wanting more . . . and more.

 

But, she never told anyone,  . . . never,  . . . no one . . . even her ex-husband after 20 years when he asked about her hidden fantasies, she never said one word, never admitted to her father using her sexually, wanting to be a slut, a fuck-toy, and all the rest . . . even though in her heart of hearts, she knew that’s what she wanted more than anything else in the world.  Of course, that never got mentioned during the divorce argument, so she’d focused on how bad of a “provider” her ex-husband was, since his business had failed and they had been short of money, the essence of “no financial security,” which she’d demanded from the beginning . . . at least, that’s what she said to distract attention from and hide from the truth of her other hidden desires.

 

When her ex-husband had accused her of even a few of those desires, she fought him, somehow thinking that he’d know to over-power her and make it happen anyway.  But, he didn’t know the real secret—that she couldn’t be responsible, that she could never admit they were her deepest desires.  He didn’t know that her protests were faked, only to hold up the “image of a good girl” from the legacy of her parents.  Finally, after years of her being so impossible, he finally just left her.

 

 

She continued to shiver and sweat at the same time, looking at them, knowing she had to do something, or she’d lose the job.  Part of her wanted to just throw it in their face and tell them that she was going to report them for sexual harassment, but the other part . . .

 

She tried to just reach down with one hand, and very quickly pull down her panties . . . just to pacify them. 

 

Desirae slapped her across the face, yelling “NO ONE TOLD YOU TO COVER UP, BITCH!  PUT YOUR ARMS DOWN AND GET THOSE PANTIES OFF!  NOW!”

 

 Startled into submission, Kari quickly reached down and took off her panties and threw them down on the floor at Desirae’s feet.  She tried to cover up her tits again, but then realizing that would bring more anger, she forced herself to put her arms straight down at her side, feeling even more humiliation, although her face blushed even brighter. 

 

To her dismay, she realized that she had became even more aroused and her nipples were swollen and hard, and her juices began to drip down from her cunt lips and on to the inside of her legs, obvious to anyone watching.  She couldn’t reach down and wipe them off because that would only draw more attention to them.

 

They were indeed watching.  Humiliation, it seemed, lubricated everything, so to speak.  Her shame, and her desire for it, her need of it, seemed to rush from her dripping pussy all the way up her naked body in a blush like she’d never had before.

 

In fact, it was the sluttiest, whorish moment of her life so far, totally exposed her sexual desires right out there for anyone to see.  That moment that her body had taken over to humiliate her had finally come to be.  She came like a mink in heat, her orgasm almost knocked her off her feet, and the world seemed to swirl around like a ride at the carnival.

 

 “Ok, then, bitch. . . . do you want this job?”

 

“yes . . . uhm, . . . . Ma’am.”

 

“Ok, then . . . so, get down on your knees and suck his cock,” she said, pointing at her father.  “Go on, get on with it.  We haven’t got all day to waste time on a slutty maid.”

 

Too startled to think of any way to argue about it, Kari, sank to her knees and reached out for Fred’s crotch.  His hands were on his hips, so with trembling hands she quickly unbuckled his belt and let his jeans drop, pulled down his shorts and grabbed his hard cock, pulling it toward her and into her mouth.  And, suck she did, not wanting any more humiliation—although she suddenly realized that sucking a stranger’s cock in front of his family was probably about as humiliating as it could be.  He body was indeed taking over and driving her to humiliation.

 

As soon as her lips touched his hard cock, she felt herself becoming someone else—the slut that had been hidden from everyone all those years before.  Her hunger for his cock, his cum, came out in the sound of her mewing, her whimper showing all her desperate need.  

 

All three of them began to call her those humiliating names, “cocksucker . . . cheap whore . . . cumslut.”  In spite of herself, she found herself becoming more and more aroused, and the juices of her cunt were now dripping all the way down her thighs.

 

It wasn’t long before he came in her mouth.

 

She knew what to do with that, after all those years being forced to suck off her father, so she quickly swallowed, mewing with desire the entire time.

 

“You clearly enjoyed doing that, didn’t you?”

 

“uhm . . . “

 

“DIDN’T YOU!?”

 

“yes, Ma’am.”

 

“Ok, slut.  You still have a job here.  Do you have a nipple chain?”

 

“uhm . . . no, Ma’am.”

 

“Then get one before you return next week.  And watch your email so you will know what to wear or not wear next week.  We will decide that.  Is that clear, cumslut?”

 

“yes, Ma’am.”

 

And, from now on, your name is “cumslut.”  Is that clear?

 

“yes, Ma’am.”

 

“What’s your name, bitch?”

 

“My name is cumslut, Ma’am.  Uhm . . . thank you, Ma’am for letting me continue this job.” 

 

“Well, then you’ll need to thank my Dad for letting you suck his cock and drink his cum, don’t you think, cumslut?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.  Thank you, Fred for your nice cock and letting me drink your cum, sir.”

 

Kari’s orgasm when she said those words almost made her faint again.

 

“Ma’am?  May I be excused?  I  . . . uhm . . . need to go and clean up myself.”

 

“No, cumslut.  You’re staying here tonight.  We have more things to do to make sure you can handle this job.”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.  Uhm . . . but, I need to tell some people that I’m staying.”

“Ok, if you do, then don’t bother staying . . . and you won’t have a job here, either.  And, by the way, we videotaped this entire conversation, showing you naked and your cunt dripping, and you sucking Fred off.  We’ll be happy to just post it online for everyone to see what a submissive slutty cumslut you are.  I’m sure you’ll have lots of requests from guys for you to ‘work’ for them.  As I recall, you work at the library don’t you?”

 

“NO! . . . uhm . . . I’m sorry . . . I mean, yes, I work at the library . . . ok . . . uhm . . . Ma’am.   I’ll do it your way.”

 

“My way or Bob’s way or Fred’s way, from now on without any argument from you, cumslut.  Or you can go find another job, and there will be plenty of people viewing you naked online with your slutty cunt dripping with desire.”

 

“yes, Ma’am. . . . ok, I want this job, need this job.”

 

“What’s your name again?”

 

“My name is ‘cumslut’, Ma’am.”

 

“Yes. It certainly is.”