The last day of sixth grade, and the class was humming. Talk of how the summer
would go, and how they would keep in touch was running wild through the desks
and over papers and passed notes. But in the back, one girl sat still, quiet,
thinking within herself of home and family. Her mother had died two years
before, and her father had been in something of a terrible depression ever
since.
She couldn't help but think of that terrible day 2 years ago, her mother laying
on the sterile bed in that blank room, her long bronze hair streaming over white
pillows, scary machines and needles all around her, the breathing tubes in her
nose as she begged her two daughters to take care of their father after she was
gone. Those had been her last words, and Quinn cursed the drunk driver who had
taken her mother away.
The bell rang, sharp and shrill, shaking her from her unpleasant reverie. She
stood, smoothing the little plaid skirt she had worn, lifted the leather
backpack and moved quickly out the door, hoping to avoid Brian, the boy who had
been hounding her all year.
She was, however, unsuccessful in her attempt, and he caught her at the loading
area for the busses, begging her once more to go out with him just once. But
Brian was an eighth grader, and Quinn knew what he wanted from her.
Grabbing her arm and spinning her around, Brian lowered his voice just enough
that those around wouldn't take notice, saying "Come on, Quinn, I know you want
to come with me. Let's go to my place, watch some movies, and see what happens,
eh?"
Quinn jerked her hand away and said something that a lady of her age shouldn't
say, dashing to the safety of her bus and the watchful eye of her driver. But
the bus ride home was a long one, and she was tired, drifting in and out of
sleep the whole way out to their country home, sitting on ten acres of land.
Still shaken from her incident with Brian, but happy to be home for the
holidays, she burst in the big double doors at the front of the house, and ran
to see if her father was in his office, which he was. Nicolas Princeton was a
tall man, just over six feet tall, with long black hair that he kept pulled back
in a thin ponytail behind his head. He was thin, but very strong from working
out every day, and his middle aged face was both careworn and naturally happy,
leaving it handsomely lined, but unwrinkled. He worked with stocks, buying and
selling, and made a lot of money doing it, but that was about all Quinn knew of
her father's work. He kept them in their big 5 bedroom house with all it's
beauty and custom decorations, each of the three family members had their own
computers with internet access (all of them top of the line), and their own
bathroom. And all three wore custom-made clothes by a tailor woman in town.
However, Nicolas had not come out of his computer since his wife died. Sucked
into grief and loss, he let his daughters run most of the house to their liking.
Quinn said "hi" and got a kiss for her return, and ran upstairs to start the
heavy cleanup job she'd wanted to do since Yule. She opted to start with her
father's room, entering the hugest of the bedrooms in the house, almost twenty
by twenty square, with the double king sized bed in the middle. She always
loved being in this room, as it showed the most influence of her mother in the
whole house, and sometimes she swore she could still smell her mothers old
perfume. This was one of those times, and she just stood there, inhaling the
scent, until, opening her eyes, she noticed something she hadn't noticed every
before: a flat box, about one foot by one foot square, but only about an inch
high, sat on the nightstand beside her father's bed.
Knowing her father wouldn't be up for some time still, she opened the velvet
box, looking within to find her mother's wedding rings beside her favorite
earrings. But around these pieces was a steel ring, locking in one place with a
small padlock, and on the other was a metal tag engraved "Lily Princeton,
property of Nicolas Princeton" in fancy script. Quinn was quite startled by
this and ran to Renee's room without knocking, and running up to her brainy
sister to ask her about the tag.
Renee was sixteen now, with hair as black and silky as her father, but as thick
as her mother, even though she kept it trimmed right around her chin and jaw
lines. Her eyes were blue as tidal pools, and pale, pale skin from never going
outside. Her "c" cup breasts were full and perky, and rarely did she wear a
bra, as Quinn knew from exchanging laundry days with her. Her face was round
and soft, making her look a little younger than she was. Quinn certainly
thought Renee was beautiful, but her older sister rarely had dates, no more than
one or two a year. Still, her sister was the one to go to when you needed
answers about almost anything, as Renee spent most of her time buried in books.
Quinn piped up, getting her sister's attention at last. "Renee! I found the
strangest thing in Daddy's room. A tag that said Mommy was his property! What
does that mean?" Her worry and impatience was getting in the way of her usual
polite demeanor.
Renee looked up from her book and pulled her small, wire frame glasses off her
face, looking at her sister for a time, then seeming to come to a decision.
"Mom was a love slave, Quinn. She served Dad, and he ruled her. She started
training me to be one, too, and would have trained you, if you'd been old
enough."
Quinn's jaw dropped open, and after a second, she turned on her heel and ran
back to her room, slamming the door. She needed some time to think. After a
minute to breathe, she started to think about her mother serving her father, of
her being ruled by him, and what that must feel like. As she did, she felt the
hot tingle between her legs, and she knew her panties would be wet, but it
seemed like she didn't have control over herself any more.
She stood up and looked in the full length mirror hanging on her door, and
started to unbutton her top, letting it fall, she pulled the tight training bra
over her head, and dropped the skirt and panties she had worn all day to the
floor and stepped out of them. As she looked at her body, a changed seemed to
come over her. She now had long legs, joining just under the small, bare mound
at her crotch. Her tummy was flat and strong from gymnastics, but her breasts
were tiny, not even quite "a" cups yet. Her skin was light, but not as pale as
Renee's. Her hair was dirty blonde, but otherwise as smooth and thick as her
sister's. And Quinn kept hers long, past her shoulders. Her eyes were a stormy
grey, and though her face was a little longer than Renee's, she still had the
full lips that seemed like a family trademark. Quinn realized as she looked in
that mirror that she was becoming a woman at last, and a wicked thought came
over her mind.
She researched for days, finding hundreds of sites, pictures, stories, movies,
and information all over the internet. She found information on BDSM, pain and
torture, DaddyDoms and Babygirl subs, Master/slave relationships, Gor, and many
other things. Over this whole time, she absolutely couldn't keep her pussy dry,
and was finally forced to do her research in the nude with her door closed and
locked to prevent any suspicions.
At long last, Quinn felt she was ready to begin, and came out, only to realize
that she'd stayed up too late that night. It was almost 3 am, and her sister
and father were already in bed and asleep. She quickly slipped into her sisters
room, fumbling her way to the large bed, and up onto the sheets.
"Renee! Renee! Wake up, big ol' brat! I wanna talk to you!" Quinn grabbed
her sister's shoulder and shook it till Renee turned over and looked up,
groggily.
"What?" She blinked a few times; trying to focus on her sister, then gave up
and closed her eyes.
"I wanna be daddy's love slave."
"You want to what?" Renee asked, sitting upright in bed, her head suddenly
clear.
"I wanna be daddy's love slave, like mommy was."
"Are you sure about this? I mean, it's not easy. It can hurt a lot, and he
might turn you down. What would you do then?" Renee always talked to Quinn
like she was an equal, one of the reasons Quinn loved her so much, but Renee
knew there were things Quinn needed, like protection, and guidance. She was a
good sister.
Quinn thought about what her sister told her, and thought hard. Her father
loved her, she knew, and Renee, too. And the girls loved their father. Quinn
didn't want anything to change that, that was for sure, but her father had been
so sad since her mother died. Quinn did want to change that. Finally she came
to a decision.
"Renee, what if... what if you became his love slave, too? Maybe you could ask
him first and see what he said. If it went all right with you, then... maybe
he'd take me, too."
"I'll have to sleep on it, Quinn. Go back to bed." Renee flopped down on her
pillow again, and was out like a light. Quinn saw that there was no point in
trying to wake her sister back up, slipped off the bed and out of the room,
closing the door behind her.
On her way to her bedroom, she passed the open door to the bathroom, and decided
that a hot bath was in order before bed; she always liked being clean when she
slipped between the sheets, so in she went, closing the door softly so as not to
wake anyone and turned on the hot water. She pulled off her nightgown and
panties and tossed both into the hamper, knowing that they were dirty from her
earlier research. Sitting on the edge of the tub, she watched the water swirl
and fill the tub, releasing its steam that seemed to caress her young body.
She shivered, feeling her body heat up as the air warmed, her body responding
the way it had been for days as she did her research, the strange tingling
running up from between her legs. It made her dizzy and light-headed. "I need
this bath more than I thought," she said to herself, and slipped into the
steaming water. Even as the heat slipped up her thighs, she knew the bath
wasn't the answer. The tingling shot up her body and sent a violent shiver up
her spine. Her mind seemed to go blank, and she watched, helplessly, as her
hand ran over her neck and down, past her tiny, unformed breasts, over her
belly, till the tip of her middle finger touched the smooth, hairless slit
between her legs.
Quinn's first gasp was to be the coming of a new age for her. Fireworks started
going off behind her eyes, blinding her to all but the sensations coursing
through her as her thighs spread wider in the huge tub, her fingers slipping
deeper, lingering for a long time on her little clitoris, until she found the
hole near the bottom, and slipped her finger into it, pressing it against her
hymen. That hurt, but felt SO good at the same time. She couldn't keep her
fingers off of it, massaging and twisting, needing more as her head spun and her
body writhed, splashing almost wildly in the water until with one mighty cry,
her mind seemed to explode and her body to catch fire, burning up in an eternal
instant.
Slowly, she awoke from torrid dreams of myriad hands running over her body to
the clammy touch of now cold water, and saw the door to the bathroom standing
open slightly. Didn't she close it when she came in? She was so sure she had.
Shaking her head, she lifted from the water and pushed the leaver that drained
it. She picked up a towel, and started to dry her hair when she spotted
something odd. On her counter, next to the sink, was a glob of something white,
almost pearly. She bent down and sniffed at it, but found that she could smell
nothing. Touching it, she found it sticky and thick, like glue, maybe, but
stranger, and for some reason, she started to feel the tingle between her legs
again as she looked and smelt.
Suddenly, she did a strange thing: she bent down and tasted it on her tongue...
more than tasted. Before she could stop herself, she had sucked the whole glob
into her mouth and found it more than she could handle. She felt spasms between
her legs again, and shivered. She hurried back to her bed and fell in,
exhausted, and was asleep in seconds.
Once more, her dreams were queer. She dreamt of her daddy, touching her,
kissing her, tasting her flesh and her skin. But she found that she was tied
spread eagled on her bed, unable to touch him, unable to kiss him back,
straining and begging without words to be released.
Quinn awoke in a cold sweat with her alarm going off on the other side of the
room. She flopped back down on her bed and panted, catching her breath slowly
as she wondered what her strange dreams meant.
