My Daughter's Feet

Kayla's birthday dinner went well. My mother showed up on time, dressed to the nines as usual. My dad worked for the railroad during the depression and found my mother in South Carolina. She was 100 percent southern belle, except she didn't have a lot of money. Mom and dad lived well enough to always have money for things they needed though. Dad told me once when we had a serious talk about life, her family booted her off the gravy train when she fell in love with and married a roughneck. If you got her drunk, she would tell you a story of how her family lost most of their money when the south lost the war.

Corinne seemed unusually tired, but she chalked it up to not being used to sitting around, since she was on vacation this week. Privately she gave me the lustful look and said she was tired from the afternoon delight she enjoyed. At the time, we had no clue and couldn't know she was cancerous. Ironically, my mother happened to mention to her she should go to the doctor for a check-up. It would be another few years before she would be forced to go, and by that time it was too late. Had she taken my mother's advice on Kayla's twenty-first birthday, she might still be alive today.

Kayla showed up wearing a different outfit. It still matched of course, and she still had socks and shoes on, giving me her coy little smile when she noticed me looking. Trina told her to get her suit on, and jump in the pool with her and Ken. I told her that was a good idea since it was very hot out today, but she refused to take a swim in the pool with her brother and sister.

My sister Bridgette, of course was a no show. I talked to her on Sunday over the phone and told her to stop in for Kayla's pre-birthday dinner. At least she would have a decent meal in her once. My mother worried about her, funny how mom doesn't worry any other time. Like when we take her to the hospital in an ambulance because she got drunk, used drugs, passed out - and the people she was partying with called because they thought she was dead. Besides Corinne, and more recently Kayla, my sister is the only other female who freely allows me to see her naked body and nylon feet quite frequently. When she was young, she was very pretty. Thus began my masturbation years, with my sister the subject of my masturbation fantasies. Years later, after Corinne took my virginity and got me addicted to sex, my sister would let me bury myself deep inside her when Corinne and I would break up for a while. Bridgette loved feeling my penis pump sperm inside her. If I notice in the logs the ambulance hasn't been at her dump lately, I stop in to make sure she is still alive. If she is drunk when I stop, she gets naked and fondles me through my pants and begs me to fuck her or let her blow me. Sometimes she stops by and asks to borrow money to pay the rent, or other things she needs. She always offers to repay me with sex since she doesn't have money. When I told her Corinne got me addicted to her nylon feet, Bridgette would wear nylons when she came over and added footjobs to her repayment plan. If she is baked when I show up, she doesn't recognize me and has no clue I was even there. She is not as pretty now as she used to be. I promised mom I would stop in by her tomorrow and make sure she was okay.

I jokingly told my mom we were getting Kayla golf clubs, which started the golf club story. Her brother and sister got her each a sleeve of golf balls for a joke, but then pulled out prepaid gas cards. But grandma on the other hand, went all out with the golf clubs story. I don't know what she was thinking. She got her a temporary membership to a very exclusive Country Club, with a fifty dollar bar tab, and a fifty dollar food tab. The temporary membership lasted a month, and costed a thousand dollars. Considering a salad in the place costs twelve bucks and a regular beer about the same, I knew Kayla wasn't going to get drunk in there. She couldn't afford it. Hell, I couldn't afford going there. Corinne and I went there on our anniversary two years ago, and practically had to take a second mortgage on the house just to pay our bar tab. Then, mom gave her the really big surprise.

"I have reservations for you and that nice Matt boy you're seeing this Friday night. There is a table for two reserved in their main dining room, and they are having an orchestra for dancing during dinner. I'm sure you both will have a fun time there." Mother's southern drawl said proudly.

"Gee thanks grandma...but I'm not with Matt anymore. He broke up with me." Kayla sighed.

"Oh my lands." The southern drawl again. "I'm so sorry to hear. Surely you must have somebody else to escort you then."

Kayla sighed again. "No, I don't grandma. I've been too busy with work and school to be looking for a boyfriend right now."

"Oh my lands." Again with the southern drawl. "A southern belle mustn't go by herself-my lands, surely you must have a gentleman friend to escort you."

What? My daughter is a southern belle? When did this happen? She was practically a tomboy until her teen years-then she became all girly. She definitely hasn't behaved like a southern belle lately. Mother must be getting senile.

"Sorry grandma." Kayla put her elbow on the table and rested her head against her hand. "I'm going to have to cancel the reservation. I'm sure I won't find a "gentleman to escort me" in only two and a half days. I would have to shop for a dress also. I don't have the time or money to do that."

"Well...my lands." The southern drawl said. She thought for a moment then turned to me. "Surely Brady, you can and must escort your daughter to this. A southern belle cannot be held responsible for not having an escort and cancelling reservations."

Kayla perked up when she heard that, Corinne put a hand to her mouth and stifled a laugh, Ken and Trina didn't bother to stifle a laugh, as I stood in front of the grill stuttering for an excuse.

"That would be a great idea daddy." A rejuvenated Kayla said.

"Absolutely Brad." A stifling laugh from Corinne chimed in. "You could take her there for your official last dad/daughter date. You guys just ended it with no fanfare."

Ken took his shots at me too, while Trina, who added shots of her own building on Ken's, had a scowling, hopeful, distasteful look on her face as if to relay to me, 'If you don't take her, take me.'

"I can't take her. I don't have a suit to wear for something like that." I said, trying to get out of it.

"Lands." Scolded the southern drawl. "You can, you are, and you will Brady Baldwin. No son of mine is not a gentleman. A gentleman could and should be escorting a southern belle; even if she is your daughter." Mom folded her hands in her lap. "I will give both of you money to obtain proper attire."

"But ma—" I pleaded.

"I've spoken my piece, and counted to three." said the southern drawl softly and gave me the mother look. That pretty much meant that was the end of the conversation.

Kayla beamed at me full of happiness. Corinne continued to stifle her laughter as Ken kept up the pop-shots at Kayla and I. Trina still added hers on to Ken's. Before my mother left, she gave me money for a tuxedo, and Kayla money for an evening gown. I still tried to get out of it by handing her the money back, but she just gave it to Corinne who openly laughed now, and assured her it would be used as her wish.

After my mother left, making me promise again to check on my sister tomorrow, Ken and Trina went to hang with their friends while Kayla and Corinne did the dishes. I covered the pool and cleaned the grill. Looking in through the patio door, I could see Kayla talking excitedly to her mom. I opened a beer and sat down in a deck chair on the patio to relax a moment and take in the night air. Stars filled the cloudless sky, and crickets chirped in the darkness. An occasional slap would end the life of a mosquito. The patio door opened, and Kayla walked out toward me.

"I'm going home dad." I stood up and she put her arms around my waist giving me a hug. "Thanks so much for making my birthday special this year." She sighed. "Everything from the new car to making steaks on the grill, to taking me to that country club Friday night; this is the best birthday ever." She hugged me a little tighter. I put my arms over her shoulder and gave her a hug back.

"No problem turtle dove. Drive safe home. See you Thursday for coffee?"

"Maybe dad. I'm going to have to hunt to find a dress, it might take a couple days." She laughed.

I gave her a kiss on her blonde hair. "Okay then. If you don't, I guess I will see you on Friday when I pick you up."

Kayla still held onto my waist as she backed up a little, stood on her tip-toes, and gave me her standard daughter good-bye kiss on my lips. She put on strawberry flavored lip gloss before she came out to say good-bye, and I ended up licking my lips on reflex when she pulled away. She giggled at my reaction and whispered in a fake southern drawl: "I s'pose y'all think you're going to see my feet in nylons Friday don't you?"

I whispered back: "Kayla, that is the furthest thing from my mind."

"Well..." she whispered as she let go of my waist and placed her hands on my chest, "Mom said she was going up to bed. So I was thinking...let's take a ride in my new car. You can drive. I'll take my shoes and socks off, and give you a footjob to properly thank you for the awesome birthday present. Or, you can just take your cock out and jerk off while kissing my feet, whichever you want to do. Just one more present daddy; please let me see or feel a hard cock on my birthday and cross the 'kind of' incest line with me."

"Tempting offer Kayla..." I whispered back. "But I've already driven your car."

"Okay." She sighed. "I still need to know how to program my radio stations though. Will you walk me to my car?" She said as she turned from me, sexily swaying her ass across the patio to her car. I had a feeling of what she planned to do, so I stayed put.

"Read the owner's manual. That will tell you." I called after her. When she noticed I wasn't following her, she gave me a pouty face, stuck her tongue out at me, giggled, got into her car, and with a beep of her horn and a "See ya later dad." She left.

I walked over to the trash can by the garage drinking the last swallow of beer in my bottle before throwing it away. When I turned around, Trina was walking up the couple steps to the patio. "Hi dad." She said to me over her shoulder. "I see Kayla just left."

"Yep Treen..." I said ..."And I was just heading up to bed. Gotta work tomorrow."

"I know dad." She said. "Good night." She opened the patio door to the kitchen and stepped inside, leaving me standing there wondering just what the heck happened for her to start calling me dad again? What was in the water she was drinking at supper tonight?

Trina is a pretty girl, at least to me but I could be biased. She has fiery red hair and freckles. She has my vision as evidenced by the fact she had to wear glasses since she was three, but has her mother's beautiful brown eyes. She is a bookworm, and has more dates with books than boys. She is ranked number one in her class. She isn't a jock or a cheerleader like her sister was, but she did join the school band playing the flute. Sometimes I just block everything out and listen to her practice in her room when I'm downstairs with the television on mute. She was upset at the beginning of the school year when she didn't make first chair. When I hear her play, I wonder who could have possibly been better that day to beat her. She did not have many friends, and the ones she did have were very courteous and respectful. She just turned 16 a few months ago, opting out of the big sweet 16 birthday bash for a simple dinner with family like the one we just had for Kayla. She also chose not to get her driver's license yet. She hasn't called me dad in the five years since my dad died, so at least maybe she has finally forgiven me.

I made my way to our bedroom, finding my sexy wife asleep on top of the covers, wearing nothing but shiny nude thigh highs. She was snoring softly. I chuckled to myself as I sat down on the bed next to her. I gently ran my hands over her back, giving her a soft back rub. A little lower and I gently rubbed her still perfect ass. Twisting around, I leaned down and put little kisses down her legs until I got to her feet. I admired her perfect nylon feet for a few minutes. The feet I had shot so much cum onto in the last twenty years, I briefly wondered how many children we would really have if all my cum went into the proper place. I then kissed her foot. She must've taken a shower before bed as all I smelled were perfumed nylons. I stood at the end of the bed, dropped my shorts, lifted her feet to my crotch and put my hardening cock in between them. I held her feet still as I slowly fucked myself with my wife's shiny nude nylon feet. My cell phone rang, it was Kayla. I didn't answer, determined to blow my load. Kayla called again, and again I didn't answer. The third time Kayla called I answered just so I could tell her to stop calling. After all, I was trying to get something done here.

"Dad!" her shaky voice yelled into the phone. "I need help!" My cock immediately went soft.

"Where are you." I said as I pulled up my shorts and began to look for my keys.

"I'm at home." She let out a little scream. "Dad hurry! I need help!"

Out of instinct I grabbed my portable radio out of the charger, and my firebox keys in case her apartment was locked. This way, I could just open the firebox for the master key to the apartments. Keys in hand, I flew down the steps listening to her pant and whimper into the phone.

"I'm coming Kayla. Just hang on baby girl I'll be there in a jiffy." I heard a smack and a thud that sounded like her phone got knocked out of her hand and hit the floor. The line went quiet and I shouted her name a few times into my phone. As I got into my truck I looked at my cell phone and realized the call ended. I tried to call her back and got no answer. I roared down the street in my truck making yield signs out of stop signs. It normally took ten minutes to drive from our house to her apartment, I was determined to set a speed record and make it ten seconds. My mind was racing, should I call the police? Does she need an ambulance? What am I going to find when I get there? Would I be walking into a bad situation? Didn't matter to me--the son of a bitch who was hurting my little girl signed his own death certificate. He wasn't making it out of her apartment alive.

I got to Kayla's apartment in just under three minutes. Portable radio and firebox keys in hand, I ran in through the front door and up the steps to the second floor until I was standing in front of her door. I put my ear to the door to listen for any noises. Hearing none, I knocked and yelled her name through the door while turning the knob finding the door locked. I knocked and yelled again, and thought I heard a muffled cry through the door. That's all it took for me. Instinct had me kicking the door in and I backed up to the wall, before I realized I was holding onto the firebox keys. Back down the steps frantically trying to find her apartment firebox key on my key ring. When I found it and opened the box, her apartment key was hanging there. After taking the steps two at a time, I was back in front of her door. I didn't bother knocking. I unlocked her door doing a mental check preparing myself to do battle with whoever thought they could mess with my daughter. Once inside, I closed the door softly while doing a scene size-up. I noticed nothing out of the ordinary.

"Kayla." I yelled alerting her and anybody else who might be in the apartment I was here, and they better be gone.

"Dad! " Kayla answered immediately. "I'm in here, I need help." Followed by a grunt and whimper which made my adrenaline soar.

I gingerly and slowly walked down the short hallway checking the bathroom to make sure I wasn't going to get jumped. "Is there anybody here with you Kayla?"

"Nobody dad. I'm alone."

That made me relax a little. Instead of getting beaten, maybe she hurt herself changing a light bulb or something. Hey it could happen. I slowly turned the knob on the bedroom door, although more relaxed, still preparing for the worst, and hoping for the best. When I opened the door, I soon discovered the mental picture I had of what could possibly be happening, was nowhere near what was happening. Kayla had gotten herself into a mess all right. My pure as the fresh snowfall southern belle daughter experimented in bondage. She was lying face down on her bed wearing only black pantyhose with the crotch cut out of them, her head hanging over the side of her bed facing away from the door. Her right wrist was handcuffed to her right ankle, and left wrist to left ankle. Her legs bent at the knees to accommodate her handcuffs forcing her to keep her legs open. Well, that and a butt plug in her ass. The pink vibrator she used earlier in the day when she masturbated in her car, almost all the way inside her, buzzing at a high speed. Her feet and toes were flexing and curling in a vain attempt to push the plug or vibrator out of her.

"Kayla....what the hell?" I asked surprised at what I saw.

"Dad...please turn the fucken vibrator off. I can't take it anymore." She panted and whimpered before pushing her pelvis into the bed and releasing her signature chipmunk squeal. Her hips pounded against the mattress as I stood there dumbfounded, my cock rising in my shorts again as I watched my daughter fuck herself on the vibrator. I was moving in slow motion for some odd reason leaning over my side of the bed, watching her feet flex and toes curl in her pantyhose as I reached out to pull the vibrator out of her and left it lay on the bed still buzzing away.

"Thank you dad." She said in a sigh of relief. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you." Her pussy was gaping open from removing the vibrator and her hips moved back and forth as if her pussy was searching for the buzzing vibrator to fill it again. I stared at her open pussy then looked at her wrinkled pantyhose soles when she curled her toes. "Dad can you take the butt plug out too please? It's starting to hurt." I heard her, but I couldn't act on her words except sit on the bed, undo the button and zipper on my shorts and stroke my cock. Kayla heard my zipper go down. "Dad what are you doing?" The bed began to move from my masturbation. "Are you jerking off dad?" She tried to lift her head to watch me, but her position and her restraints weren't allowing her the proper angle. "Oooh daddy." She purred. "Yes. Jerk off for me daddy. You can smell my feet if that will help you cum". I put my face down to her nylon sole smelling previously socked feet and lotion. I lightly rubbed my face against her sole, breathing in her scent. She flexed her foot against my face. I switched to smelling her other foot and she turned her body giving me easier access to it. She began to rub her pussy into the mattress. "Just take me dad. Make me your perfect little slut. My pussy is a little sore from the vibrator, but I need cock. It's my birthday-Fuck me daddy. Please. I'm really good."

I came back to reality, realizing what I was doing. I had one foot over the incest line she wanted me to cross with her. I wasn't about to step over totally. I stopped my stroking and put myself away. After taking a few minutes to compose myself I asked her again; "Kayla...what the hell?"

"I know this looks bad, but I can explain." She sighed, hanging her head over the side of the bed.

"I don't want to know." I said with a hand raised. "Just tell me what you need that you had to call me for help and had me thinking you were being raped."

"I dropped the key to the handcuffs and it's underneath the bed." She said flatly.