[EX] Daddy's Little Girl
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: PhantomPistoleer on 11-11-2008, 03:57:31</h2>
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				Title: <strong>[EX] Daddy's Little Girl</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>PhantomPistoleer</strong> on <strong>11-11-2008, 03:57:31</strong>
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				<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" class="bbc_size">New, York<br><em>New, York</em></span></div><hr><br>The bright lights of glitzy uptown Manhattan hide the sexual decadence of its citizens.&nbsp; Behind the post-modern walls of contemporary brick and future glass, aberrance lurks in the high-rise apartments of the fabulously wealthy.&nbsp; Meet Arthur Lansing.&nbsp; A Gulf War army veteran, he is a billionaire software tycoon with a dark secret.&nbsp; He is at the beck and call of his little princess.&nbsp; Certainly, many men might find themselves in the same position…&nbsp; but only few could truly find themselves in Arthur’s current position.&nbsp; Dressed in leather, with a gimp mask over his face that protruded a long black dildo from his mouth, he crouched low to prop up his darling daughter’s legs up. <br><br>Yes, yes, Arthur Lansing found himself as a member in a strange proposition.&nbsp; He was his daughter’s loving slave.&nbsp; And, as warped and as strange as it may sound, Arthur loved it.&nbsp; He loved being humiliated by his beautiful daughter.&nbsp; He loved being fucked by his beautiful daughter.&nbsp; He loved being tortured by his beautiful daughter.&nbsp; He was very good, too.&nbsp; He only came when she allowed it.&nbsp; He did everything she wanted.&nbsp; He bought her whatever she desired.&nbsp; He was a good, prosperous slave; and as sick as it was, Arthur desperately loved her.<br><br>Things have not carried on in this way forever.&nbsp; Indeed, Arthur did not discover his daughter’s proclivities for prostitution and domination until she was going to college, when he became one of her clients.&nbsp; But he had always loved her.&nbsp; He had always favored her.&nbsp; He had always doted on her.&nbsp; She was his little princess.&nbsp; And now, he is her slave.&nbsp; More specifically, her seat.<br><br>Descending into depravity, Arthur could not even remember the man who he used to be.&nbsp; No, he could not remember that he once desired that his little princess might never be with another man.&nbsp; Now, he could not wait until his daughter’s next gangbang.&nbsp; He could not wait to watch at the foot of the bed as she fucked two men at the same time.&nbsp; He could not wait to lap up every single strand of cum off of her body.&nbsp; &nbsp;Arthur performed her bidding with great wanting.<br><br>Despite being in his mid forties, he had never been in better shape.&nbsp; Of course, he often found himself in dubious exercises.&nbsp; Now, he was on his hands and knees, scrunched on the ground, serving as an ottoman to his beloved princess, his mistress.&nbsp; As mentioned, he wore a mask with a dog collar underneath.&nbsp; His upper body, an exquisite older man's figure, was exposed to the elements of his daughter's wrath.&nbsp; Arthur also wore tight leather chaps with combat boots, leaving his genitalia dangling in between his legs and his puckered asshole exposed to his daughter's prodding.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Daddy's Little Girl</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Beauty</strong> on <strong>11-11-2008, 18:36:34</strong>
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				Lydia Lansing had never been afraid of her father. A parental, authoritative position had never been established between the two even when Lydia had been very small. She had always, always, had him wrapped around her little finger…Now quite literally, as her slender fingertips explored the length of his exposed arousal. Even before she had explored the arts of sexual pleasure, Lydia knew that her father practically worshipped her…<br><br>Practice, makes perfect…and daddy made such a good slave. She had decided not to inform her father of her career as a dominatrix not out of fear of his disapproval, but because she simply had decided it was not something he needed to know. However when he came to her doorstep, wringing his hands nervously around the formal envelope she sent to all of her clients with the necessary paperwork, she felt not the slightest bit horrified as one might expect. Instead of being repulsed that her father would seek out such a exhibition, Lydia was thrilled. An overwhelming sense of completion coursed through her veins on the day she took her daddy as her permanent slave…<br><br>Lydia had always been a beautiful girl. A pampered, beauty Queen from the time she could walk on her own. Now, she had grown into a woman the gods designed for pleasure, according to one of her foreign clients. Her body was slender, but curved in all the right places. Her breasts were naturally large and perky, her legs long and toned. Typically her attire consisted of thigh high black leather boots, a tightly fit red and black corset, and garters if she decided to be a bit more teasing. Her dirty blonde hair was always styled and done up, so that the carnal desire of pulling hair and seeing it flow down the curve of a woman’s neck could be completed…A lot of time and effort was put into the perfection of her appearance…Lydia always appeared as the Goddess she was praised to be.<br><br>Her fathers high rise apartment appeared quite formal in a majority of the rooms…The staff only came to clean certain hours of the day in certain rooms, but never the first room to the left of the entrance way…That room, only Lydia had the key to. That room, was her dungeon. A beautiful and exquisite collection of crushed velvet, leather and dark wood furnishings with of course, all the necessary equipment of a proper Mistress. Leather benches with cuffs for the ankles and wrists, St. Andrews Cross’, suspension bars, a lavish silk bed with all sorts of restraints, and of course her worship throne in the center of the room, surrounded by all sizes of candles. Lydia had an entire walk in closet of various lubricants, flogs, paddles, whips, and toys…This room was entirely for her clients, all of daddy’s toys were tucked in their shared bedroom closet…<br><br>She sat now, on her medieval looking throne with her boots propped up on her daddy’s strong back. She smirked slightly, breathing in the soft fragrance of the candles around her as she moved one leg down so that the leather material would rub against his cheek. “Are you going to be a good boy when my clients arrive?” She inquired, in quite the chastising tone. The end of her crop wandered across his spine, drifting down to circle that puckered hole that was so very inviting…
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				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Daddy's Little Girl</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>PhantomPistoleer</strong> on <strong>12-11-2008, 05:39:44</strong>
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				Arthur’s creamy back was the perfect ottoman for his daughter’s latex black boots.&nbsp; Really, he was not functionally better than an ottoman, but it is highly doubtful that an ottoman should desire to please his Princess so.&nbsp; His tight butt, the product of an exercise routine that included three sets of lifting 200 lbs. from a squat, 50 inverse squats, 50 oblique squats, an hour on the stair master, two hours jogging and a 20 mile bike ride once every three days, had at one time been instinctually trained to reject a foreign object by constricting the sphincter.&nbsp; But today, the thought of his Princess driving anything into his brown asterisk made him grit his teeth underneath his dildo-protruding mask with pleasure and made his dick quiver with excitement.&nbsp; He stayed perfectly still as she prodded him with her leather strap, hoping that she might punish his little asshole, or bind his testicles, or smack his dick with a paddle.&nbsp; Though he had behaved, he was sure that he had sinned… and he looked forward to being absolved by being punished!<br><br>Had he been on a stable frame of mind, he would have found the question that his dear daughter asked quite ridiculous, on a number of levels.&nbsp; It was not right for a father to want to watch his daughter fuck.&nbsp; But he did.&nbsp; It was so common that it was oft his expectation, an expectation often met delightfully by the sounds emanating from his dreams to reality as he awoke to find another man in their bed, in between his daughter’s thighs, pounding her lovely ladyhood into oblivion.&nbsp; There was a hint of jealousy in his heart, but not because she was his daughter… but because she was his lover!&nbsp; Yet the question remained.&nbsp; Mistress was a very mindful Mistress, always right and always loving, so Arthur struggled to find the deeper meaning of the question so aptly posited.&nbsp; The father loved watching his young daughter toy with the minds of men, or when she was engaged in a large seething mass of sweaty bodies, lying in betwixt the flesh and the juices, with three dicks inside of her.&nbsp; Each time men took her to bed, he would watch dutifully at the end of the bed, his dick firm and his tongue ready to appease his sinful daughter’s every wish.&nbsp; Each thrust wrought a steep breath to his chest, and he often found himself amazed at the sight of his lovely daughter revolting against the sex of man.&nbsp; And truly, as every slave ought, each pump into her lovely hymen was imagined to be one of his own.<br><br>Clients were always welcomed into his home.&nbsp; Strange men and women with whom his daughter had developed rapport, they too were welcomed with open arms.<br><br>Of course, perhaps the clients had not come to use Princess, but had come to use him.&nbsp; Princess did not permit him to grunt, to moan, to seethe, to hiss.&nbsp; The pain could be excruciating as her male clients pounded his asshole ragged.&nbsp; Or his Princess might humiliate him.&nbsp; But none of these things bothered him as long as his Princess desired it.<br><br>So he answered his Mistress in a certain voice, which did not quiver for fear of having to repeat himself:&nbsp; &nbsp;“Your slave is at your disposal, my Mistress!&nbsp; I come when you tell me to come.&nbsp; I love what you tell me to love!&nbsp; And I love my Mistress without condition, because she condescends to love an unworthy slave!”<br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Daddy's Little Girl</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Beauty</strong> on <strong>14-11-2008, 06:42:42</strong>
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				“Very unworthy indeed…your Princess has to put up with such a naughty whorish slave…” Her painted lips curled into a wicked and devlish smile as tilted her crop at just the right angle to place a few swift, firm swats upon the underside of his balls. She could see his dick quivering already, though it was still quite early in the day. She usually had schedules lasting from mid afternoon to very late in the evening, but occasionally a few of the more upper-class business men would find an excuse to visit her during their own office hours. Quite a few of them felt they had done something with which the guilt was too much, and they needed immediate relief by Lady Lydia’s revenge upon their flesh as a form of repentance…Others simply became overwhelmingly horny, and as Lady Lydia was one of the few dominatrix’s around that offered sexual gratification as well as domination, she booked more than her fair share of clients in Manhattan. <br><br>Standing up, she stood with her boots locked firmly against her daddys side so he was on all fours between them. She looked to the mirror situated behind him and smirked, inspecting his more than pleasing appearance. She was very proud of having such a fit and dedicated slave, but none of her clients knew that he was her biological father…There are some things that are taboo even in BDSM.&nbsp; Nevertheless, Lydia ran her fingers through her long dusty blonde hair as she admired herself in the mirror. She worked out very little, but at times joined her daddy walking or something of that sort. Her exercises’ were more concentrated on flexibility and stamina than muscle gain. Tightening the laces on her corset, Lydia set her crop down between Arthur’s legs again. Raising one leg, she placed her boot on the back of his neck and guided his head towards the floor so that his backside was lifted and exposed in the air. <br><br>“When my client arrives, you are to remain in this position…” A firm strike was placed with the crop against that toned curve of his ass. She kept her boot firmly on the back of his neck, but only to keep him place. She did not expect him to squirm, he knew better, but it was an assertion of dominance that was necessary regardless of the obedience of a slave. “You are to keep still and quiet, on display my dove…My client is experimenting with his sexual nature and may choose to play with you instead if Mistress allows. If he elects to do so, you will obey him as you would Mistress.” Her boot removed from his neck, Lydia knelt down next to her father and unzipped his mask, placing it on one of the chests of various toys nearby. Her elegant fingers stroked along her fathers face, gazing into the eyes that were so very much like her own. <br><br>“However, if one gasp of bliss or complaints escapes that dirty mouth of yours..you will be outside the door for the remainder of the day..am I understood?” Lydia had a strict rule concerning pleasure and pain.&nbsp; Only she, his Mistress and his Princess, was allowed to give him such feelings. She was his soul source of both good feelings and bad. To be used by clients was because Mistress allowed it, not because he wanted it. Though in truth Lydia knew that her daddy quivered in anticipation every time he bent over to be used by another man..It was quietly accepted, but if any joys beyond gritted teeth and tense muscles were displayed, she would lock him outside the dungeon for the rest of the day and punish him with only hearing the pleasure going on inside…<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Daddy's Little Girl</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>PhantomPistoleer</strong> on <strong>16-11-2008, 20:38:38</strong>
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				Naturally, Arthur accepted his position as his lady's ottoman.&nbsp; When Lydia undid his mask, his soft, reddish-brown hair, matted with sweat, was the first thing anyone would see.&nbsp; He did not gasp for air, but he wanted to.&nbsp; His Princess might not like to see her father take a gulp of air from the atmosphere.&nbsp; He would have to ask, but... an inner part of him, the part that maintained that he was the breadwinner, that he was the man of the house, ridiculed him for even having to ask for such freedoms.&nbsp; For God's sakes, he owned the apartment.&nbsp; Everything Lydia owned was in due part because he willed it.&nbsp; She was his, not the other way around.&nbsp; And all of this was because when he got out of the service, he created a program that is so minor, but that 90% of computers cannot do without.&nbsp; A few lines of code had generated millions of dollars for his family.&nbsp; And that self, hidden and obscured, screamed out:&nbsp; 'Arthur, wake up!&nbsp; You are being used!'&nbsp; No, it was not true that Arthur could have degenerated to his current position in a matter of days.&nbsp; It took years of his spirit being broken, though he overlooked the precipice when Lydia was small.&nbsp; She was his princess.&nbsp; What she wanted, she got.&nbsp; She broke him with her tears, with her pleas.&nbsp; Lydia destroyed his marriage, because he often found himself siding with Lydia more than his wife (a woman with whom Lydia shared more than a passing resemblance and a proclivity for being a dominatrix).&nbsp; But even his masculine, dominating inner self jumped at the opportunity of driving his sex into his Princess' warmth.&nbsp; As he plowed into her and overlooked her scalp for the first time ever, and saw the curve at the corner of her smile, he remembered thinking:&nbsp; this makes a lot of sense.&nbsp; Perhaps that was the only thing that made 100% sense to this degenerate.&nbsp; Arthur really enjoyed fucking his daughter, and he loved it when she fucked him.<br><br>His handsome face, rugged and lean, with a flat nose from when his Mistress broke it, was sweaty and his jaw was sore.&nbsp; That painful mask had been on his face for several hours, and his teeth had clenched onto the base of that dildo for the entirety of it.&nbsp; However, he did not dare lift his palm to rub his jaw.&nbsp; The muscles of his gluts condensed and then rippled as he shifted in his position.&nbsp; As he entered the modified downward dog position, the grovelling position, his butt looked more squared than it did an oval.&nbsp; It was a firm testament to his many hours at their home gym.&nbsp; For his lithe and muscular figure, this position was not in any way difficult to hold... but his curiosity, that sparkling aspect of a man so overcome with numbers and figures, might give him away.<br><br>Then there was the threat.&nbsp; The threat that if he made a noise, he would be punished by the love of his life.&nbsp; She could humiliate him, she could hurt him, and he would not mind: but the threat of being left out of her sex life... that exclusion made him furious!&nbsp; No, how could she punish him with such a horrendous crime?&nbsp; The fury evolved, picking up steam, as he looked over his Princess, and his eyes glimmered with anger.&nbsp; But he did not respond to his Princess.&nbsp; He pressed his temple against the ground, his skin sweltering hot by his passive aggressiveness.&nbsp; He would submit to her wish... but he did it with a scowl.<br><br><hr><br>There was a knock at the door:<br><br>Black Simon was a regular.&nbsp; Standing at 6'8, weighing in at 270, he was a retired NFL linebacker with too much money to spend and no recourse to get it back.&nbsp; He was on a downward spiral, on his way to forfeit his house, to forfeit his family.&nbsp; But, like all men blinded by the hunger that wealth and notoriety brings, Black Simon did not care to throw away money left and right.&nbsp; Everyone knew what his end would be, save him.
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