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Review This Story || Author: Bluebuck

Tiffany

Part 6 Daddy Does Three

                        Daddy Does Three
                              (Part 6)

     Two was relived when Brute released her ankles from the
ceiling, allowing her to stand on her feet, though her arms were
still spread, leaving her in the pose of a crucifiction. 
However, when her back straightened, as it must when her
hideously spread legs were released, the strain on the black stub
which anchored Two's head strap tore the huge dildo from Two's
asshole, and it fell to the floor.  Her breasts could swing free. 
All that remained of the torture devices was the vibrator,
pressed against her overstimulated clitoris, laced in place by
the catgut through the holes in her labia.  Slave Two was allowed
to hang there, in relative comfort, gasping, sweating, turning
shades of pink, as she suffered one orgasm after another, until
the batteries ran down.  Brute stood beside her, snapping his
fingers, so she would forever associate the sound with
uncontrollable orgasms.
     One, Two's mother, lay gasping on the floor, expelling from
her bowels the last of the gallons which had tortured her beyond
endurance.  Four, One's husband, Two's father, was still bound to
his post, being teased by his beautiful, masked tormentor.  By 
now, she was half naked, displaying herself, exciting him,
tantalizing him, but never letting him reach his orgasm.  He
might have come, just from the sheer excitement of it all,
without her touching his penis, but when it appeared he might,
she would whip his ass, squeeze his balls, or otherwise break the
spell long enough to quench his ardor.  Then she would begin the
tease again.
     Four was the only one of the slaves who would noticed what
was happening to Three, Two's former college room mate.  Daddy,
the greying, masked slavemaster had her to himself.  She was a
tiny woman, childlike, who looked, perhaps, fourteen, even after
three years of college.
     Daddy would have like to fuck her virginal little cunt,
hairless like a child's, but it was laced shut with a shoelace
through the gold rings Master had placed in her labia.  The rest
of her slender body, however, was his.
     With help from Master, he had shackled her ankles to the
legs of a horse and fastened her wrists to another, so she stood,
legs wide, bent at the hips, with her body horizontal.  Her
conical little breasts hung down like stalactites.
     First Daddy had merely played with her, rubbing every bit of
her legs and body with baby oil, cooing at her that she was his
little girl.  Three, who was still new to playing the slave,
thought it was fun and did everything he said to do.  "Oh, daddy,
you are so nice to me," she said, when prompted to do so.
     "But you have been a bad girl," he said, "and must be
punished."
     "Yes, Daddy, I deserve to be punished," she ad libbed.
     "You stayed with your mother all these years and never came
to visit your Daddy."
     "Yes, that was naughty of me."
     "Well, we'll make up for some of the punishments you have
missed, since you left," he said, soothingly.  He placed two
penis suckers over her little breasts, the same kind that
tortured Two.  Three's girlish breasts, however, were not much
bigger around than the opening of the plastic tube, so when
suction was applied, the effect was not so painful.  The tingles,
the fullness, as they were sucked, flooded with additional blood,
hurt a bit, but Three found it exciting.  Somewhere, Master set a
little electric chime dinging, and Three was conditioned to
respond to the sound.  Her laced-shut little quim dampened
inside.
     Daddy seemed particularly interested in her boyish little
ass cheeks, atop skinny, straight legs.  He oiled them again,
frequently slipping an oily finger into her rosebud of an anus. 
It bothered Three at first, but she learned to relax and let the
finger just slide in.  It was a strange sensation, almost fun.
     Daddy selected a rubber butt plug, shaped like a Christmas
tree.  The tip of the tree slipped in as easily as his finger
had.  He pushed harder, and Three's anal orifice stretched a bit
to receive it.  He poured some oil on it and pushed again.  Pop,
it slid in past the widest part, and her anal sphincter muscles
automatically clamped shut around the trunk.  A "roots" on the
trunk prevented it from going all the way in, getting lost inside
her.
     "Oh, Daddy, that hurt," she said, coyly.
     Daddy took a wooden paddle and began to spank Three's
buttocks, the wood occasionally cracking against the butt plug,
or even the lace which closed her exposed little slit.  That
hurt, and Three started complaining: "Daddy, that really hurts."
     Three's complaints only heated Daddy's passion.  He paddled
her bottom even harder, until it was pink all over.  Three was a
blonde, with very fair skin, so the contrast of reddened buttocks
with the rest of her was all the more exciting to Daddy.  His
penis strained in his briefs.  He opened his fly and held his
pole in his left hand.
     Daddy replaced the paddle with a bamboo cane, which had
Three screaming for mercy.  Even as she screamed, however, her
brain produced pain deadening endorphins, and she was able to
detach the pain from her self, to observe that the pain was
terrible, and the woman was screaming, but that's what slaves do. 
The psychological threat, the fear of death or whatever pain is
supposed to instinctively produce, to make an animal flee or
fight, that instinct had been overcome.  The pain was something
that was there, like a toothache.
     Daddy rummaged around in Master's kit of tools and came up
with a hundred or so sewing needles.  He took them, one at a
time, and inserted them through the beaten skin.  The insertion
was not so painful.  There was no blood, and, while Three could
feel each one slide in, it was just an increment of pain, added
to the stinging of her tortured skin.  She even had time to
contemplate her breasts, aching, engorged with blood like a
tumescent penis, as they slowly flowed into the plastic suckers. 
She wondered it there would be any permanent damage.  Would they
sag, after such treatment?  Tears came to her eyes, as she
imagined herself looking in a mirror and seeing sagging breasts
instead of pert little cones.
     Daddy ran out of needles, but he had almost run out of
places to put them.  Her backside looked like a porcupine, with a
dozen or so needles sprouting from her girlish labia like stiff
pubic hairs.  Daddy took out his cigarette lighter, flicked it,
and held the flame beneath the lowest needle, which was centered
in one of the gold rings which allowed Three's cunt to be laced
shut.  The eye of the needle glowed red, and the heat conducted
down the shaft.
     "Yeow!" screamed Three.  "Oh, no! AAAgh!"  He heated another
needle.  The torment continued, until Daddy's lighter ran out of
fuel.  Then he removed each needle, wiggling it as he did so.  It
hurt, but three was glad to have them gone.  Again, the pain was
surprising, hurtful, but not beyond what she could stand. 
Nothing like having a tooth drilled.
     Daddy pulled on his prod with his left hand, while whipping
Three with a cat o' nine tails.  The soft leather did no damage,
but Three said, "Oooww, Daddy, that hurts.  Please, stop, Daddy. 
I promise I'll be a good girl."
     Something came over Daddy.  He yanked the butt plug from
between Three's pink cheeks.  He promptly plunged his pecker into
the puckered hole and pumped his meat in and out with gusto. 
Three, bent over the horse, had no choice but to take it in the
ass, and it didn't hurt, certainly not like hot needles.  Daddy
held her hips and urged his aging body to pump harder.
     Experimentally, Three tensed her rectal muscles, as if to
hold the prick within her.  Daddy unloaded his spunk with a
series of grunts and his penis, gone soft and slick with semen,
slipped out.
     Daddy looked at Three's pink hole, dribbling what looked
like snot, and he said, "God!  What have I done?"  He pushed the
butt plug back into place and left the room.
     Tease had been watching.  She left Four, his pole yearning
to be touched, and walked over to Three.  Bending over, she let
her nipples drag across Three's back, as she reached around the
slim woman's body and released the tit-suckers.
     "Thank-you," whispered Three.
     Tease released Three's bindings and said, "You poor child,
lie down on your back."  She adjusted a pillow under Three's
tender bottom.  "That's it.  Now raise your knees.  Pull them all
the way up toward your shoulders.  That's it.  Good girl."  The
masked woman untied the lace in Three's crotch, put the chimes
next to Three's ear, and went down on Three's cunt, licking and
sucking expertly.
     Three was responsive, with her vaginal juices flowing as
fast as Tease could lick them up.  Tease worked on Three a long
time, for every time Three came, shuddering and groaning, Tease
was encouraged to continue her "torture."  At last, Tease left
the young woman lying there, exhausted, and went back to her own
slave, Four.
     Four was staring at Two, his own daughter, who, with the
vibrator pressed against her clitoris, was in the throes of yet
another orgasm, her breasts blushing, her nipples erect, an
expression on her face which might have been fear, terror, but
which actually was the involuntary response to the ecstasy which
consumed her.
     Tease merely touched Four's pole, and he went off like a
water pistol, spurting his cum in gobs onto the floor.  Tease
lost interest in Four, but watched intently as Two, now hanging
limply from her wrists, seemed to be building up to yet another
gut-churning orgasm.
     Brute, however, got down between Two's legs and clipped the
catgut which laced her perforated labia.  The metallic vibrator
fell with a thunk, and Two's vulva gaped open, bright red,
gleaming wet.  As the intense stimulation stopped, Two was able
to regain her feet.  Brute gently spread her knees and ran his
fingers along the groove of her cunt.
     "AAAAh!  It burns!" screamed Two, as Brute smeared her
inflamed membranes with liniment, something intended to provide
"soothing deep heat for sprains and strains."  She clamped her
mouth closed to keep from screaming and crossed her legs,
squeezing her thighs together.  Writhing in her tethering chains,
her eyes closed, her ass making little circles quite on its own,
Two concentrated her mind on the pain, the delicious pain.  

     Tiffany woke, lying on her right side, to find that Cheryl's
naked body was snuggled up Tiffany's, those pert little breasts
pressing on her back.  Cheryl's left arm was over Tiffany's and
Cheryl's left hand rested on her breast.  When Tiffany stirred,
Cheryl's hand closed gently, the nipple between two fingers.
     "Must have been quite a night," Cheryl said.
     "Yes.  Two really suffered.  I feel sore all over."
     "I don't remember much," said Cheryl.  I remember Three
worrying about sagging breasts, and being worn out by orgasms." 
Cheryl got out of bed and stood before a mirror, examining her
breasts, which showed no marks and stood forth as little cones,
nipples centered like fuses on a pair of bombs.  She cupped her
own breasts, as if weighing them, and said, "You know.  I think
I'm still growing."
     Tiffany joined her room mate at the mirror.  She showed
rather more signs of wear; Two had left her with discolored, pink
tits, thousands of microscopic blood vessels broken.  She looked
at Cheryl, whose back and buttocks showed faint traces of her
caning last night.  "Cheryl, you're wearing a butt plug."
     "Oh, yeah.  No, don't touch it.  I'll leave it in for a
while longer.  Maybe I'll let Three wear it next week."
     At breakfast, Tiffany's father said, "You women really
suffered last night.  Is it worth it?  Should we quit playing
those games?"
     The mother said, "Don't talk about it!"  She was wearing 
only a slip, and Tiffany could see some bruises on her mother's
breasts.
     Tiffany said, "Cheryl, you have a vote, now.  Are you ready
for next week?"
     "Hey," she replied, "I get to keep the money, pay off my
student loans.  It's not me, it's Three that has to earn it. 
That's fine by me.  Three will be ready for next week."  Cheryl
moved her behind on the chair seat, enjoying the feeling of the
plug in her.
     Tiffany's mother, probably not realizing what she was doing,
fingered her crotch through the slip.  "We need the money."
     Tiffany took a bite of toast and said, "Hey, for over a
hundred dollars an hour, I can... Two can put up with a lot of
pain.  I vote we stay in business."  She dimly remembered
countless orgasms, and wondered if she could sneak down to the
forbidden basement and find that vibrator.



Review This Story || Author: Bluebuck
Previous Chapter Back to Content & Review of this story Next Chapter Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home