____________________________
| |
/)| KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF |(\
/ )| DIRECTORIES |( \
__( (|____________________________|) )__
((( \ \ > /_) ( \ < / / )))
(\\\ \ \_/ / \ \_/ / ///)
\ / \ /
\ _/ \_ /
/ / \ \
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o o
o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety o
o of stories. They have been submitted by people from o
o all over the world. Also from alt.sex.stories (News o
o groups). There is no particular order other than o
o offering them to you in alphabetical directories. o
o o
o All works are copyrighted to the author and may not o
o be used for profit without obtaining the author's o
o permission in advance. o
o o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult o
o entertainment and should not be read by minors. o
o o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Annie's Ordinary Day - 1
by Marquis of O (bloggerdom@hotmail.com)
***
Follow Annie's life during an ordinary day: after
waking up with a butt plug in her ass, the little girl
is forced to give her pedophile father a blowjob.
Annie lives a life of bondage and torture and exists
only to give others sexual pleasure, but she's used to
it. (Mg, extreme-ped, nc, v, inc, oral, anal)
***
PART ONE
Lying perfectly still, Annie tried not to writhe lest
the butt plug planted in her rectum stung her again.
Even now, with her not moving at all, she felt a
burning down in her crotch area. But if the little
girl stayed motionless in bed, if she didn't try to
move to the left or to the right, if she didn't try to
adjust her position, it would hurt much less. She knew
this from experience.
When she tried to raise her back just a little she
felt the hard object pushing against her entrails. Her
bed didn't have a mattress. It was just the metal
skeleton supporting a wooden plank, on top of which
she slept. The bulbous end of the butt plug jutting
from her anus, weighted down by her weight, pressed
against the plank and made it impossible for her to
forget the five inches of stainless steel inside her
tight rectum. Still there were moments when the pain
turned into just discomfort, if she remained still.
Soon mommy, or daddy not daddy, she prayed would
enter the unadorned, inhospitable bedroom and untie
the knots binding her ankles and wrists tied to the
metallic railings on each side of the bed. She
breathed slowly, tried to relax, to keep her mind
occupied with thoughts, whimsies, hopes. For instance
she hoped today wouldn't be as bad as yesterday, but
she wasn't optimistic.
From the corner of her eyes she could see on the alarm
clock on her bedside table that it was 07:05 already.
She had been wide awake for two hours now. She seldom
slept well, all night, and usually had nightmares.
When she woke up it was difficult to go back to sleep.
Sometimes she spent whole sleepless nights, counting
the minutes on the clock, afraid of going crazy,
sensing the butt plug, or a dildo, rammed deep up her
anus or vagina. Only rarely did her parents torment
her by keeping both holes penetrated at the same time.
When they really wanted to drive her mad, to torture
her psychologically, to leave her docile and tired and
submissive, they instead used a vibrator, which was
left on all night, whirring uninterruptedly a
monotonous buzz that came from the lower part of her
body, just loud enough to disrupt her sleep.
Often she had to sleep during the day, a few hours or
minutes here and there when she wasn't doing chores or
sexually servicing her father it was usually her
father during the day; her mom usually played with
Annie at night, after returning from work, before
dinner if daddy had bothered to make it, or before
going to bed, in which case she joined daddy in the
late night games.
Annie had difficulty achieving an orgasm if the object
was inserted up her anus. Many times her parents had
ravaged her bottom with divers objects, and of course
her father loved to use his cock to stretch her tight
orifice apart, but the girl never reached an orgasm
that way. She was much more sensitive in her vagina.
Although Annie hated the 'games,' as her daddy called
them, although she felt nauseated when daddy fooled
around with her body, although she felt sick when he
treated her like an object, when he played with her
clitoris she couldn't resist feeling an embarrassing
but enjoyable swell of ecstasy and pleasure, a warm
sensation starting in her loins and radiating through
her entire supple body when she felt this wave
moving over her body, the ten-year-old child knew she
had reached an orgasm. She'd lie in her parents' bed
much more comfortable than hers , panting heavily,
with a mix of surprise and apprehension in her face,
for even though she enjoyed it she was ashamed of it,
she was ashamed of her vagina being 'wet,' as her
parents said.
From the attention they paid to this moisture, a sign
of her unwilling complicity, and which sometimes left
spots on her panties and on her parents' bed sheets,
she understood that having a 'wet' vagina was wrong if
they enjoyed it so much. She had learned a long time
ago that everything they liked about her body was for
the wrong reasons, that it was immoral, bad.
But that morning her vagina and clitoris weren't being
stimulated, and since the stretching of the rim of her
anus only caused her pain, she wasn't horny and she
hadn't experienced the warm feeling in her loins, nor
was there a puddle of her juices around her thighs,
soaking the plank. There was just pain, her ass was
hurting, her legs were numb from being immovable, but
the area around her ass, from the buttocks to the
crotch, was just a ball of pain, it hurt as if broken
shards were moving inside her, cutting her to pieces.
Annie had been hearing sounds around the house for
some twenty minutes now. She had heard someone flush
the toilet - the bathroom was right next to her
bedroom and someone turning the shower on. She had
heard laughing and words spoken, but she didn't make
them out. She had also heard footsteps in the corridor
outside the bedroom door, but the steps had passed and
kept on walking, gone downstairs.
Her mother was probably doing breakfast in the
kitchen. She always left for work around 07:35. But
first she always served breakfast and the family ate
together around the kitchen table. It was one of
Annie's few moments of respite, of peace during the
day, a time when her parents, for a few moments while
she was eating, didn't harass, hurt or humiliate her.
They just ate. They tortured her, but they also fed
her well. Their tortures were so cruel and intensive
she needed strength and stamina to endure them.
Also they couldn't afford to get her too ill or sick,
they always feared taking to the hospital. So they
made sure she ate well. That way after breakfast she
was ready for fucking. After mom left she stayed alone
with daddy all day, another day of knowing how to
survive.
She heard a vague din from below, probably cups
chinking. Mom was probably making fresh coffee. They
gave her coffee, it was one of the ways of keeping her
awake during the day. She knew that today she was
going to need it. She was feeling dizzy and sleepy,
she wanted to sleep badly but the butt plug was still
inside her. Mommy would soon enter the dark room and
take it out of her, she thought.
Now she was hearing laughter outside, her parents were
in good spirits. Last night she had given him a
blowjob and he had ejaculated in her mouth; the brute
had pushed the back of her head against his crotch and
kept it pressed against his thick mass of pubic hairs,
forcing her to gag and choke on the cock and to suck
up all the cum. His big hand on the nape of her neck
didn't relent until she had cleaned all his sperm, she
always thought sooner or later he'd break her neck,
unintentionally. But this frightened her so much she
always sucked him brio, indeed she was quite
experienced in it and knew how to please him orally,
she'd started learning to do it when she was just
months old, fresh out of her mother's womb. Last night
she had swallowed his cum and hadn't lost a droplet.
That had left him very happy. She bet daddy had slept
very well. No wonder he was laughing and in good
spirits. This wasn't of course good news for her. His
favourite way of being in good spirits involved him
raping her or humiliating her.
"Please, oh please," she murmured, instinctively
catching her breath after uttering these words because
breathing too heavily caused her discomfort with the
butt plug stuck in her body. It wasn't clear what she
was pleading for or to whom, if she wanted her parents
to come up to give her some relief from her pain, or
if to some supernatural entity for a new life.
Her parents didn't believe in God, and after what she
had known and suffered since she was a toddler, she
had no reason to have faith either. She only knew
misery, with brief intervals of solace. Her eyes were
moist, tears were rolling down her flushed cheeks. The
room was stuffy. She had pale skin for she barely left
the house.
She did homeschooling, which allowed her parents to
control her easier and gave them more peace of mind:
the last thing they wanted was for the martyred girl
to complain to a teacher or to a classmate, or to
share the private things that they did, thinking them
normal, with other children, or for an over-sensitive
teacher to notice the natural sadness of her face or
the bruises in her body to take an interest in her and
investigate the cause of her general unhappiness and
wounds. She was crying now, but she didn't moan or cry
aloud, she had learned to control herself, to bottle
up her feelings, to make herself invisible, mute.
In the rare moments when they left her alone, she had
learned that pretending she didn't exist increased the
chances of them not thinking of hurting her more. She
avoided them, lived in silence, didn't play with dolls
or noisy games, inhabited her mind, lived in a world
of fantasy, drew, read books, wrote poems, thought a
lot, watched the sky through her window a lot. She
didn't have a TV she never used the special ones in
the basement - but if she had one, she wouldn't turn
it on. The noise could remember her parents that she
existed. She frequently thought of running away, if
only she had the courage.
Approaching footsteps interrupted her ruminations.
From their sound she could tell it was her mom,
wearing high heels. She always wore them when she went
out. She was a gorgeous woman and liked to show it,
and her husband liked to show her off and encouraged
her to look sensual and slightly slutty. If she was on
her heels already, she was about to leave to work.
Breakfast was waiting for Annie below. The door opened
slowly and she entered the room, a tall, dark-haired
woman, a healthy-looking brunette whose loose,
lustrous hair fell down to her shoulders.
She was in a tight t-shirt that accentuated her firm
breasts. She was already wearing her training bra,
which hid her nipples, usually big and pointy. She had
on black jeans. Although she was in her early
thirties, she looked like a teenager yet. She was
smiling, her face beamed with joy.
"Hello, baby!" Patricia cooed.
Annie looked at her imploringly.
"Oh, dear," her mother said in the kindest of voices.
"How are you today? Is it hurting" She was moving
towards her. She knelt next to her and started untying
the knots.
"It hurts, mommy..."
"Mommy is here, she's going to make it alright," and
bending over her she kissed her on the lips gently and
then on the head.
Annie looked at her mother with bulging, weary eyes,
showing her feeling of betrayal, as if she were
accusing her, "I'm your beloved little girl! How can
you do this to me?" But all she saw in her mother's
eyes was indifference. She knew she was not very
beloved.
"There, there, honey," she said in a soothing voice as
she finished freeing her ankles from the knots binding
them to the rails. "It's over now. Were you up long?"
"Yes... Ouch..." Annie moaned since she could no
longer resist the pain inside her, which had resumed
when Patricia started untying her. "Please, mommy,
take it out..."
"Turn over, baby." Annie rolled to the right, offering
her back to her mother so she could have better access
to the butt plug. It was a long object. There were
some five inches inside her. Patricia grabbed the
bulbous end between two fingers and slowly pulled it,
slowly in order not to tear her fragile rectum, but
also to enjoy the sight of the object sliding out of
her anus: such a scene never failed to arouse her in
its glorious obscenity. Even though she and her
husband, William, had been putting things inside their
daughter's intimate holes since she was a baby,
Patricia never failed to marvel at the profane
spectacle of seeing an object desecrating the
innocence of a child.
As the pointy tip of the butt plug came out it left
Annie's anus gaping for some moments, the interior was
very red and swollen, in spite of the lubricant oozing
out of it. They were always careful when penetrating
her, they didn't want to leave permanent wounds or to
hurt her so badly they had to take her to the
hospital. Patricia knew this made Will upset because
he enjoyed violence and brutality, but he was also
smart enough not to want to end in jail.
"Oh, honey, what a mess," Patricia said, dangling the
butt plug in front of Annie's eyes. It was covered in
feces, and although neither Patricia nor Will enjoyed
scat, aside from occasionally pissing on their little
girl, Patricia loved to embarrass her by making her
stare at her own shit. "Are we going to have to put
you back on diapers?" she asked, taunting her.
"Sorry, mommy," Annie replied, unable to look her in
the eyes. She didn't know why she should feel ashamed,
she hadn't asked them to put the object inside her
ass. But she felt guilty.
"That's alright, honey," her mother said. "You're just
a child." She said this as if Annie were a toddler who
couldn't control her bowel movements yet. That she was
a child she knew fully well. She heard it several
times a day. In fact she knew all the problems of her
life stemmed from the fact that she was just a child,
hopeless and defenceless against her predatory
parents. They clearly loved her in so far as she was a
child, small, wide-eyed, sweet and fresh, fuckable and
vulnerable. She was sure that if they could they'd
have stopped her from aging a few years ago. Her
father already complained that she was getting too old
for his 'tastes,' and her mommy sometimes said to her,
while caressing her bald cunny, that one day it'd be
as bushy as hers. "When you're older," she explained.
Annie knew her salvation was somehow connected with
her growing up. She just didn't know how long that'd
take.
"I'm going to put this in the bathroom," Patricia
said. "You ran downstairs, daddy is waiting for you."
Every morning she left the sex toys in a basin in the
bathroom, filled with bleach, in order to clean them
up, so they could be reused. While she headed towards
the bathroom, Annie, now free and without thinking
twice, obeyed her and sprang out of the room and down
the stairs, totally naked. Even if her mother had just
used an ordinary expression when she told her to run,
Annie had learned a long time ago that interpreting
everything she was ordered literally made her life
easier.
When she burst into the kitchen, her father was
sitting at the table, chewing a piece of toast covered
with strawberry jam and gulping it down coffee. He
looked at her and chuckled.
"What's the matter, princess?" he asked, noticing her
naked figure. "Are you in a hurry today?"
She now felt stupid for not taking some moments to put
clothes on. Although she was a domestic sex toy, her
parents never insister in her being naked all the
time, just when they wanted access to her body.
Usually she wore a nightie, or a t-shirt with a skirt
or a pair of shorts, anything that made fondling and
groping easy. She felt stupid, but if it hadn't been
this, he'd have found out another reason to laugh at
her. He was an expert at ridiculing her, humiliating
her.
"Mommy told me to run downstairs," she nevertheless
said in her own defence, and immediately thought that
made her sound even dumber.
"That's alright, angel. Sit down and eat," he said, in
a loving voice that he was very good at feigning.
"You're going to need your vitamins. Where's your
mother?"
"In the bathroom, she..." she didn't say more,
embarrassed.
"Eh, it was covered in shit again, uh?" he said, and
he pronounced the word shit slowly, knowing that Annie
was sensitive to swearing and usually felt ashamed and
distressed about topics involving her fluids and
secretions. Neither he nor Patricia had the habit of
swearing at home, except when they fucked, and usually
behaved with decorum, almost like normal families.
When he used a naughty word, it was exactly meant to
disturb the little girl.
"Yes," she admitted. "It was dirty."
"You're a dirty little girl, aren't you?"
"Yes, daddy," she agreed, afraid to disagree.
She bit piece of a toast and drank some milk. Her
father had finished eating and now gazed fixatedly at
her. He could see the tiredness in her eyes, they
looked heavy and stupid. "Rough night?" he asked.
"I couldn't sleep well."
"Have some coffee," he said without showing any
concern for her.
"I'm fine, daddy."
He picked up the coffee pot and poured it into an
empty cup. "Drink."
"Yes, sir." She finished her milk and grabbed the
coffee cup. It was hot on her hands and she kept
moving it from one hand to another. She blew into it
to cool the coffee. Meanwhile her mother had walked
into the room. She was looking at her watch, frowning.
"I'm late already," she announced. "Will you two be
alright?"
"Sure, Pat," he said, unable to stop a smile from
appearing in his face. Patricia smiled back at him.
She picked up a bag and headed towards the door. "You
be good, honey," she ordered Annie, as if she needed a
reminder. The girl stared gravely at her mother,
drinking her coffee slowly, and nodding her little
head with her bulging eyes filled with fear. Her
peaceful moments of the morning were ending.
Her mom worked in a gym, that's how she remained a fit
and well-kept woman, very sensual and flexible, which
made Will's life sex life much more interesting. She
was a beautiful woman and even though they had a
predilection for their prepubescent daughter, both
still loved fucking each other. She always left at
this hour, leaving Annie with her dad, who worked at
home, designing websites. This gave him freedom to
manage his own schedules and meant that at any time,
when he was anxious for preteen twat, he could just
call Annie into his office to have his desires
quenched. She was never doing anything too important
to refuse.
Patricia closed the door behind her, and Annie and her
father were left alone in the kitchen. He was waiting
for her to finish eating. He never rushed her, never
told her to hurry up; in his defence, as big a monster
as he was, he always showed more respect for her
during meals. She wasn't sure if this didn't make him
more of a monster. This, to her, showed that he still
had some sense of decency left in him, some vestige of
humanity, which, however deeply buried in his sick,
sadistic soul, sometimes they resurfaced for moments.
But the silence, which seemed to be tolerant, only
made her nervous and prompted her to finish her
breakfast faster. He was like a sleeping volcano, he
could burst at any time, without warning. She put the
coffee cup on the table, empty, and placed a small bit
of toast on the plate, then put her hands on her lap,
sign she was finished.
"Are you alright? Want more? I can do more toasts."
"I'm fine, daddy, thanks."
"Well, what are we going to do today?" She always
dreaded this moment, when he questioned her. She was
free to make a list of the degradations of the day,
she knew his pleasures and what he enjoyed doing to
her, she had been over this thousands of times. She
could easily make a list of things that would leave
him happy, but she always hesitated, afraid of
displeasing him. There were few things more degrading
than her father asking her how she planned to be raped
and tortured each day.
"My bottom hurts, daddy," was all she said. He
understood well enough.
"Oh, so you don't want me to fuck you in the ass
today?"
"No," and then added, lowering her voice, "please."
"I'll think about it. But you make me feel very
jealous of that butt plug. I mean, it gets to spend
all night inside your yummy rectum, and I can't fuck
it, your own father. And you know how much I love that
tight ass of yours."
"Yes."
"Perhaps today we should spend some time in the
basement."
Her heart skipped a beat.
"Please, daddy..." she squealed in panic. "Not the
basement. Please. Not today."
William chuckled at the terror in her voice. Annie
tried to control herself, aware that her anxiety and
fear excited him and stimulated his sadistic
imagination.
"Please, don't hurt me today, daddy. I'll be good.
"I don't know, angel, I was thinking of trying the new
pliers on your labia. Test their elasticity."
"I'll suck your cock!" she shouted when she heard the
words pliers and labia in the same sentence. "I want
to suck your cock, daddy! Please let me suck you
instead!"
Nothing made him feel more powerful than to hear his
daughter, this chit of a girl, debasing herself by
exchanging oral sex for torture in the basement. In
these moments when he made her talk like a cheap
whore, Will felt extremely aroused and in control. His
penis was already at its maximum length inside his
pants. A blow job to relieve him, why not?
"Alright," he agreed. "No basement today. Now get on
your knees on the floor and walk on all four here
where I'm sitting."
She reluctantly got down on the floor. She knew how to
behave and to move, and in what order. First she stood
up. Then she knelt down, each leg next to the other,
tightly shut. Next she bent forward, planting her
palms on the floor, and slightly raised her bottom.
Slowly she crawled like an animal, rubbing her tummy
on the floor, wiggling her round buttocks in the air,
moving in her father's direction. He adjusted the
chair so that his crotch faced her.
She stopped in front of him, his legs open. Kneeling
down again between his legs, she lifted her torso and
sent her hands in search of the zipper of his pants.
He helped her take them off by getting up a bit from
the chair. He closed his legs again so she could pull
them down, and when they were lying around his ankles,
he lifted his left foot and she took them out. He
kicked them away. Without further obstructions, he
reopened his legs.
His disgusting hairy crotch protruded in front of her.
The thick, black mass that covered his penis always
sickened her, as did the smell of cum, sweat and urine
radiating from his penis and testicles. He hadn't
taken a shower yet. Probably they were going to do it
together. His cock was fully erect, nine thick inches
of rigid meat. The foreskin covered the glans. Annie
could already see a droplet of pre-cum glistening
outside the orifice. She knew what she had to do next.
"Whenever you're ready, baby," he said, reclining in
the chair.
She held it by its base with one hand, then grabbed
more of the shaft with the other hand. Still both
hands barely held half the shaft in their grip. She
stroked it vigorously, the way her father liked it,
pushing the foreskin back to its limit and exposing
the engorged pink head. Without stopping the stroking,
she tilted her head forward, opened her lips and
enveloped his cock with her slippery tongue.
"Oh my God," he said, already in ecstasy. The little
girl began bouncing her head back and forth,
initiating a steady rhythm, allowing the prick to
enter a few inches into her mouth, keeping it in there
for two or three seconds, and then slowly pulling it
out, running the tip of her tongue along the shaft as
she removed it from her humid mouth, and making sure
she hit the sensitive frenulum which was stretched to
its limit already. And then she started over. She knew
how her father liked blowjobs, he had been teaching
her since she was a baby, and they had the videos in
the basement to prove it.
William didn't mind the shiver he felt down his spine
every time her moist tongue pricked the delicate band
connected to the foreskin, in fact he enjoyed a little
bit of pain in his sexual games, a small dose of
discomfort was an aphrodisiac to him, and he
especially loved it when it was caused by his ten-
year-old daughter, the expert cock-sucker who knew how
to use her tongue as well as her mom did.
"Oh, yes," he purred, lounging on the chair, sometimes
looking up at the ceiling and breathing heavily, in a
trance between dream and consciousness. "Oh, you're
such a whore. You're a slut, aren't you? A cock-
sucking slut! One day we have to put you earning money
on the street, I bet you'd love that, uh?"
Annie didn't interrupt the blowjob to answer, but she
knew she couldn't disagree or she'd make him mad. So
she was glad the cock stuffing her mouth prevented her
from saying that, yes, she was a whore and enjoyed it.
There was no greater pleasure life than the tongue of
a child massaging and caressing his cock, William knew
it, and in these moments he not only considered
himself the luckiest man in the world, but also pitied
those who, through prudery or absurd notions of human
decency, would never enjoy this singular pleasure.
He didn't understand how some people made it into
something dirty and unnatural. As he lowered his eyes
to meet the sad gaze of his daughter, whose eyes were
rising just slightly from between his legs, as he
looked at the tears of innocence in the corners of her
eyes, at her crimson cheeks, at the freshness of her
body, and as he listened to the wet slurping noises of
her lips sucking on the cock, he thought that this was
the most beautiful thing in the world.
"Do you... want it in, ah... your mouth... today?" he
asked, gasping. "Or... uh, or in your face? Ohh!" The
orgasm was about to reach its peak, his balls seemed
to be tightening, his shaft was becoming more
sensitive with each running of Annie's tongue along
it, his penis was moments away from ejaculating. He
seldom gave her a choice, preferring to make it
suspenseful, and to upset her more he'd usually shoot
without warning. Each option had its unique pleasures.
If he shot in her mouth, she had no option but to
swallow the sploodge, he made sure of that; he had the
habit of grabbing a tuft of her hair and push her head
against his cock at the moment of the explosion, of
shoving as much of it down her throat as was
physically possible, and of holding her in that
position as he shot gobs of cum into her.
His cock was around nine inches long and unusually
thick, and Annie barely managed to open her lips wide
enough to engulf it. So inevitably blobs of cum seeped
from her mouth and accumulated in the corners of her
lips. When he pulled his cock away from her after
cumming, she always sported two little moons of cum
hanging on each side of her mouth, obscene ornaments
that made Annie's face even more adorable to her
father.
However, if he decided to pull his cock out of her
mouth before he shot his load, William liked to aim
the bursts at her nubile body. He loved to see the
sticky substance hit her pale skin, normally her face
and hair, over which his cock dangled, but sometimes
he couldn't plan it and his cock ended up shooting
against her shoulders or belly. Wherever it fell,
however, this substance, glistening on the smooth
surface of the child's body, only served to make her
more erotic and appetising, to leave William
erotically aroused. It was amazing to smear cum over
her body, to leave translucent traces along her tummy
and thighs, or to order her to grab a piece of cum and
eat it from her hand, lick the fingers clean.
Sometimes he grabbed a piece of cum and finger-fucked
her mouth until no vestiges remained.
He loved to see her open her palm in front of her
face, just inches away from her lips, stretch her
tongue out and with its wet tip lap the gluey
substance bit by bit into her mouth. If she had had
clothes on when he cummed on her, William also loved
to see the sperm staining the fabric, leave on it the
marks of his love; Annie often wore the same clothes
several days in a row, since she barely left the
house, in order to live constantly surrounded by the
pungent odor of cum. They made her wear white most of
the time so the stains became more visible when they
dried up and turned yellowish. So she always looked
like a slovenly, filthy child.
But today she was naked, and William was feeling
exceptionally magnanimous so he gave her a choice.
Through a pre-arranged code, Annie, in order not to
stop the blow job, used her eyes to answer her father.
She blinked twice quickly, meaning the second option.
That didn't surprise him, she hated the taste of cum,
nauseating in her mouth and which she once had told
her mom that made her feel sick in the stomach. In the
beginning, many years ago, she even threw up after
ingesting cum. She had seen it on video, much to her
disgust.
The feeling of choking as she was forced to hold her
mouth on the cock, that also terrified her. Sometimes
she had nightmares about drowning, and she was sure
her constant fear of shortages of air came from the
traumas of gagging on her father's cock. Even if the
cum when it landed on her skin made her feel icky, it
was better than having it inside her, travelling down
her stomach.
"Alright... Keep sucking, oh, yes, I'm almost there,
baby," William said. "I'm going to pull it out."
Annie instinctively moved backwards as Will rose from
the chair, took control of his cock, and pumped it
furiously, grunting as the orgasm was on the brink of
release. "Uhr, uhhh, here it comes, here it comes!
Shit!"
Annie reflexively shut her eyes firmly and turned her
face away, in the next instant she heard her father
shouting in orgasmic joy, and the shout was still
resounding in her ears when she felt parts of her body
suddenly hit by a pasty substance, lukewarm on her
skin. The parts of her body she felt wet multiplied,
and in her mind's eye she formed a picture of her
petite body and the places that had received the cum:
it had fallen on her nose, and she could feel it
dripping now from its tip; another part had splashed
on her right cheek, broken into smaller droplets all
over its crimson surface.
After an interval, the second wave of cum fell in her
lower regions: between the parts of her chest that one
day would have her breasts a drop was now trickling
down to her tummy; a larger portion fell on her right
leg, it was so unexpected she jerked it as if a bee
had stung it. She waited for more, but there was no
more. When she opened her eyes again, still waiting
for more, she realized that her dad's cock had already
lost its vigour and the last shots had fallen between
the inches of floor that separated them, leaving a
dozen or so of small stains on the white tiles.
"Oh, my God! Oh God... so good," Will kept repeating,
momentarily oblivious, shut in his erotic reveries. He
still stroked his cock, which was turning limp, as if
it were going to shoot more, but only a small white
button of cum emerged from the orifice. With his other
hand he wiped it away. Then he looked at his cum-
covered daughter and at the messy floor. They looked
the same to him.
"Oh dear, we're going to have to clean this, won't
we?" he asked, in a jovial tone. "Mommy won't like it
if she comes back and finds the house so dirty."
Annie knew what this meant, but pretended to be dumb
and stood kneeling in her slave position, waiting for
her father to verbalize the order that was already
running around in her scared mind.
"Why don't you lick it up?"
It hit her like a punch in the belly. Actually she
knew very well how a punch felt because she had been
punched hundreds of times over the years, and this was
much worse; this was a punch not on her body but on
her spirit, her feelings, her sense of dignity. There
was nothing her parents wouldn't do to mess with her
mind.
She attempted a complaint.
"But, daddy," she said, coyly, in her most girlish
voice, "you said you were going to cum outside. You
allowed me to choose, I don't want to eat cum.
Please." With any other father, a normal one, this
sexy voice and pair of pleading eyes would melt his
resolve and turn him into his little girl's slave.
Although most fathers didn't feel sexually attracted
to their daughters, there was always something
feminine about them that made these men vulnerable to
their wiles. But not so with William. He didn't fall
for his daughter's attempts at manipulating him, his
sadism and domineering personality made him impervious
to them.
"I did, honey," he replied sternly, "But you shouldn't
have missed these drops. Perhaps next time you'll
learn not to close your eyes. Now you're going to lick
the floor clean with your tongue."
It was useless to protest, in a few moments more, her
defiance would only turn him on again and he'd
probably physically assault her, probably slap her or
kick her. He had promised there wouldn't be any
basement today, but she also knew his word was
meaningless when it came to satisfying his erotic
caprices.
Licking the tiles for cum droplets wasn't anything
new, even if each time she reacted with disgust as if
she had never done it before. There were many things
she couldn't get used to. At least, she thought to
herself, her mother always cleaned the floor every
day, so at least she knew it was reasonably clean. She
stretched herself on the floor, feeling the cold of
the tiles on her warm skin. The blowjob had left her
sweaty and hot. She positioned her face close to the
area where there were more droplets and started
lapping them up, one by one.
Sometimes she rolled her eyes up, at her father, to
see if he had new instructions for her, or just to
know if she was doing it right, she could never tell
with him. William stared at her from his chair,
nodding in assent as he enjoyed the degrading
spectacle. He smiled now, not in a wicked, sinister
way, but more in a proud way of that being his
daughter, the obedient slut who ate cum off the floor.
How many fathers could brag about that? William's only
regret is that he could only brag to a few pedophiles
he knew on the internet, who loved to chat with him
about how he abused his daughter and sometimes even
suggested new ideas.
One by one Annie absorbed the droplets with her
tongue, accumulated the cum in the back of her mouth,
and then washed the amount down with fresh saliva. She
swallowed five times before the floor was free of cum.
Instead it now sparkled under the ceiling's lights
with the thin film of spit she had left in the place
of the sperm.
"Good job," her father said. "Good girl! Get up." In
one agile movement she got up from the floor and was
standing in front of him, legs closed, her flat chest
jutting outwards as if she had anything to show yet,
arms standing by each side, like a soldier waiting for
inspection. The cum that had fallen on her chest had
trickled down to her belly button. Her messy hair and
tired eyes reminded her father of something.
"You haven't taken a shower today yet, have you?"
"No sir."
"Me neither. Daddy was dawdling in bed today," he
smirked. "We can take one together then." He extended
his hand to her and she grabbed it, weakly,
mechanically. He led her out of the kitchen, a scene
between father and daughter that seemed the most
normal picture in the world, shining with pure
fatherly love. In fact, Annie thought, bathing with
daddy just meant the morning's next round of abuses
was about to start. After the blowjob now came the
fondling, the groping, the pinching of her nipples,
the fingering of her vagina, the forceful French-
kissing, the painful twisting of her labia.
Mommy wasn't any less intrusive when she bathed her,
but she did have a lighter touch, she didn't go for
the pain with as much gusto as her husband did. And
even when she French-kissed her and they exchanged
fluids, which always disgusted Annie, Patricia had a
more caring way of kissing her daughter, which almost
resembled genuine love.
Annie had no alternative but to be ready for whatever
was coming. Her ordinary day was just starting.
End of Part one...