Slave Daughter



 
Slave Daughter:
Slaves Stories
2010-02-03
Brooke was a spoiled wastrel with no intention of ever working for a
living, until her stern parents taught her the pleasures of slavery.

Brooke slammed the cab door angrily and stormed up the
driveway, her bag over her shoulder she was highly pissed off and more
than a little drunk.
She grunted as she ran into the side of a car and almost fell.
“Fuck!” she cried.
She glared at it and kicked it, then frowned, for she didn’t
recognize it. There was another behind it, and another. She scowled at them.
“What the fuck is going on?” she demanded.
It was one in the morning. She had intended spending the
night at Megan’s, but they had gotten into an argument. Megan was going
back to university in a month, her third year. Brooke was - not. She had
no intention of going to university. She had no interest. And why should
she? Her parents were rich, beyond rich, wealthy. They were worth
millions, and had no difficulty supporting her. When they were gone, she
would get their money. So why on Earth should she sit in dull classrooms
listening to dull bearded intellectuals spouting nonsense when she could
be out partying?
And for that Megan had called her a leech! The rotten little
bitch! As if she was paying a cent towards those expensive classes at Yale!
And what the fuck were all these cars doing here!?
She kicked the one in front of her again and stumbled,
falling back heavily on her behind.
“Fucking cocksucking son of a bitch!”
She felt the cool grass against her bare bottom and grunted,
rolling, pushing herself unsteadily to her feet, fleetingly glad no one
was there to see her tiny mini fly up and back to reveal her lack of
underwear. Brooke liked not wearing underwear with her short skirts. It
made her feel daring and sexy and dangerous. But that did not mean she
wanted to be seen with her skirt around her waist and her legs sprawled
apart.
Not by just anyone.
She headed up the driveway, muttering, shoving her loose
reddish brown hair out of her eyes. The house should have been dark. It
wasn’t. It was very brightly lit, and she slowed wonderingly. Her
parents hadn’t told her they were having a party.
She mouthed another curse. If she came in pissed they’d be
bitching at her again. They’d been doing nothing else for months. How
dare they! She was eighteen, wasn't she? More than. She would sneak in
the back way up to her suite of rooms.
She went around the back and halted stupidly staring in
through the wide glass doors into the main living room.
There was a party in there, but not the kind she had
imagined. She found herself staring, gaping, at the site of a naked
woman not much older than herself kneeling at a man’s feet giving him head.
“Holy shit,” she whispered.
The girl was blonde, slender, with a very attractive body.
More interesting still, her wrists were chained behind her back and she
wore a metal collar around her throat. The man in front of her held the
leash to the collar as her lips bobbed up and down his thick shaft. All
the way up and down, for the girl was effortlessly deep throating him.
Brooke stared enviously, wonderingly. She looked so - exotic,
erotic, so hot as she knelt there with her lips sliding up and down the
man’s cock.
Beyond them were a number of men and women sitting around on
the plush sofas and chairs watching, grinning, talking together, and her
parents were among them.
Brooke sat down abruptly, grunting, hardly noticing.
Her father was moving forward. The other man had apparently
come, and her father was taking his place. Brooke stared stupidly at her
mother, then at her father, who was wearing only a pair of leather
shorts. She noted, with surprise, that he had a heck of a body. Well,
she’d known he worked out, but - his physique was impressive, and when
he lowered his shorts she gasped at the size of the cock which slid into
view.
Her father was hung like a fucking horse!
He watched him tug the girl’s leash, then reach down and
roughly grasp her blonde hair, yanking her face forward, tilting her
head back. He rubbed his cock over her face, speaking softly, his lip
curled up in a sneer, and as she watched, transfixed, her father slid
that long, fat cock into the girl’s mouth and then rammed it right down
her throat.
“God!” she whispered.
She sat in the darkness, watching dazedly as her father
fucked the girl’s throat, pulling his saliva coated cock out now and
then to rub it across her face. Then he suddenly flung her back roughly,
knelt, and flipped her onto her belly as though she were weightless. He
yanked up on her hips, raising her bottom, and positioned himself at her
bare sex, a shaven sex, Brooke noted.
Brooke wanted to run off screaming but couldn’t. Worse, she
felt her pussy throbbing strongly, her nipples tingling with life inside
the dainty cups of her lacy black bra, her breasts hot. She swallowed
repeatedly, gaping, as her father seized the helpless young girl’s hair
and thrust himself violently into her belly. Even through the closed
doors she heard the girls cry, a mixture of pleasure and pain as her
father buried himself in her pussy.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” she whispered, wide eyed.
Her father was so different from the man she knew, the gentle
father, the architect, always with the small smile on his face. Now he
was stern, commanding, his lip curled as he barked at the girl he was
riding. His hips slammed against her brutally as he yanked and twisted
her hair. She watched him reach down and seize one of the girl’s
breasts, his fingers digging into the soft, plump flesh with what had to
be painful force.
She blinked as if coming out of a trance and looked around
her. She discovered her hand was between her legs, her fingers rubbing
at her sex, and jerked it away guiltily. This was sick! She shouldn’t be
watching this, much less getting off on it!
She was about to go when she saw her mother come forward.
That froze her in place. Was her mother, her strong willed mother going
to kneel and be used like that as well? The thought was oddly exciting,
yet almost impossible to imagine.
Nor did it happen. Her mother, clad in a tight leather mini
and bustier which showed off a stunning body, dropped in front of the
girl instead. She reached for her hair and not only yanked her head up
but lifted her shoulders off the floor. Then she pulled apart her mini
and exposed her own shaven sex.
Brooke gaped. Surely her mother wasn’t - . And then her
mother guided the girl’s mouth in against her sex and the girl began to
lick.
Oddly, Brooke handled that better than her father. Having
little bisexual flings was all the fashion, after all, and her mother
was nothing if not fashionable.
She looked at the girl between them wonderingly. What was it
like to be used like that? Her own sexual encounters had always been
carefully scripted. She had to act in a certain way, had to say certain
things. She had to move her hips, move her hands, move her lips in
certain ways, and touch certain parts of his body. It was important to
be considered good in bed, not great, not too, too enthusiastic, for
that would draw jeers and insinuations. But almost as bad was the
reputation of being bad in bed, a dead lay, incompetent. That brought
snickers, and Brooke was always dreadfully aware of her reputation in
all things, and the need to protect it.
But this lovely blonde girl, she was just being - used, and
roughly. She didn’t need to really do much of anything but be a sex toy
for her parents and others to play with. She felt a sudden heated
longing for such a thing, to just give in to a wild sexual encounter
with no care about what to do or how her behaviour would be seen and
measured or what anyone would think. To just lay there in chains and be
- fucked.
She watched her parents use the girl, suppressing the heat
she felt inside herself. So her parents were perves? Heh. Maybe she
could use that against them the next time they bitched, she thought weakly.
Her parents finished, and another man moved forward, a large
brute of a fellow who threw the girl onto her back and then slammed
himself into her. Brooke winced.
That must hurt, she thought.
Yet she felt her fingers creeping between her thighs again as
the man rode her, as he pinned her legs back and pounded down into her
body. The girl was helpless, her hands chained behind her, and could
nothing but gasp and moan and cry out as he rode her. Brooke stared, and
saw herself in the girl’s place, a big, brute of a man ramming himself
down into her as people watched.
Her fingers slipped beneath her mini and she gasped at how
wet she was, how dripping her pussy. She began to stroke her swollen
clit, moaning softly as she watched the girl’s slender body crushed
beneath the hulking male body, watched his stiff cock slicing back and
forth between her sex lips.
She leaned further and further forward, squeezing her breast,
rubbing her pussy. She grunted as she lost her balance, falling forward
onto her shoulders, still staring, still kneading her pussy as she
thrust her bottom in the air and drove three fingers into her gooey
pussy. She came with a shuddering moan, and then heard the girl
beginning to cry out, to moan and wail loudly as her own orgasm arrived.
The sound made her body thrum with heat all over again.
“Fuck me! Yes! Yes! Oh God! Oh fuck! Fuck me! Fuck me!” the
girl was crying.
It was bizarre even imagining herself making such cries. She
had always been carefully controlled, even in her sex, and if she’d
occasionally felt very aroused, well, she hid it being groans and sighs.
Crying out loud could get her a reputation, after all.
The man finished with the blonde, and released her. Her body
spread out, unfurling, and lay sprawled naked on the floor. Another man
came forward, and the girl was all but dragged to her feet. Brooke
watched as she was led across the room to the pillars which separated it
from the hall outside, watched as her chained wrists were unshackled and
then spread up and out to either side. The blonde girl made no
resistance as her wrists were chained up to - to hooks on the sides of
two pillars, hooks which had held heavy planters.
And then her father moved behind the girl carrying - . A
whip!? Brook gasped in disbelief, her heart fluttering as she saw the
separated tails of the whip swinging and swaying below her father’s
fist. Others gathered around, and her father swung. The whip spread out
as it flew through the air, and then cracked across the girl’s back with
a sound she could hear through the windows. A moment later the girl
cried out in pain, her back arching, her legs twisting and jerking
violently beneath her.
Brooke stared, appalled, mesmerised, her fingers buried in
her sex, thrusting, squirming, her heart pounding as her father brought
the whip down again and again and again. The blonde girl cried out,
sobbed, twisted and thrashed against the chains holding her, and then
sagged, all but hanging by the wrists as her father continued to swing
the whip against her now very red back.
She saw another man kneel in front of the girl, and guessed
he was performing oral sex, but her focus was on her father, watching
the muscles bunch in his shoulders and arms and back a he brought the
whip down on the helpless blonde, his ass tight in his short black
leather shorts. He was like an Adonis, she thought wonderingly.
He halted and a man moved up behind the girl, his cock out.
Brooke bit her tongue as she saw him working his cock up into her anus,
the girl moaning and writhing, head falling back bonelessly.
She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled around back, let
herself in, and darted up the rear stairs to her room.
She always kept her door locked when not in, so there was no
reason her parents, whose bedroom was across the other side of the
house, should even know she was there. She stripped quickly, flinging
herself on her bed, reaching for her night table and vibrator, then
rolled onto her back and turned it on, thrusting it into her pussy with
painful force, groaning, arching her back as she thought about being
taken violently, chained and taken.

She woke slowly, groaning and rolling over on her satin
sheets, pulling them in against her naked body, loving the feel of the
smooth satin against her bare breasts. She pulled the sheets up around
herself, rolling her head in the soft, feather pillow, sighing comfortably.
The events of the previous night - morning, came flooding in
and she blinked her eyes, then swallowed as her pulse picked up. It had
all happened! Her right hand was already between her legs, and now her
finger slipped down to her tight pussy entrance and found her clit,
rubbing gently against it. Her mind’s eye filled with the memories of
the blonde girl, chained and used and whipped.
Her fingers slipped into her moist sex and she groaned as she
pumped them in and out, her thumb stroking across her clit. Her mind
drifted, and she saw herself shackled, used, whipped by strong men. And
then the strong man shifted, and it was her father, punishing her, using
her. She groaned, feeling nasty and wicked, but the fantasy turned her
insides to jelly and she came violently, her legs spreading wide, her
back arching as she gurgled and moaned and shuddered in pleasure.
She lay in bed for a time, panting, recovering, then flung
the covers back and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She stood
up, moving to the window and checking outside. It was a sunny day -
again. No surprise in California. She padded to her low dresser and
gazed at herself in the mirror, then picked up a brush and brushed
lightly at her hair. It
 



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