This is a continuation to My Fathers Daughter Parts 1 and 2. If you are off put by diapers/ bathroom stuff or incest I suggest reading some of my other stories. Otherwise, happy reading.
My Father's Daughter Chapter Three
The next day when I woke up, I discovered, to my horror, George had posted the pictures. Pictures of me waddling into breakfast in my diaper. Pictures of my dirty diaper. Pictures of Kevin changing me very, very publicly (as if I needed a picture to remember that). I guess George had grown tired of my daily humiliating diaper changes. He needed to make it even more public.
"Look at the comments," he told me with delight over breakfast and handed me his phone. I scrolled through them with mounting panic:
Wow, look at the size of that diaper. I'm a fan of the rubber duckies and the way it turns yellow when she uses it. I would love to pull down the diaper and spank the literal shit out of that pert ass. I wish my sister was that hot.
George had replied:
Honestly, it's not easy. There's the guilt. Not many people understand the appeal of banging your sister. But her breasts are so big and her pussy smells so good...when its not left to sit in a pissy diaper lol.
Another comment:
Is it normal to be attracted by the waste of such a sexy girl? Also how does she produce so much? She's so thin.
George answered:
No idea, I'm no biologist. Honestly, it makes changing her a pain though. She gets really stinky and she has a tendency of not telling us when she soils her diapers. I guess she's embarrassed or shy or something. Wonder what she's going to think about this!
Has she sucked your dick yet, George? You're a good man posting this for us.
George answered, oozing misogyny:
Thanks, dude. Glad you appreciate the finer points of the female anatomy and their digestive tract. No, not yet but she will. Oh yes. She will.
And as soon as I read that last comment George pushed me off my chair. Dad and Mark jumped to their feet. The whole table had been watching me look through the comments.
"George, you must be gentle with your sister," scolded Dad. Sure, that wasn't okay but posting pornographic pictures of me was fine? He needed to get his priorities straight. This stuff could really damage a girl. George wasn't listening. He was unzipping his pants, and pulled his hard cock out at the breakfast table. Among the milk and cereal! Like this was totally normal.
"Open," he said. I resisted. After all he had posted pictures of me in a dirty diaper on the World Wide Web. He slapped me, mostly softly but Mark still grabbed his hand.
"Dude, you can't manhandle Becky like that," he said, his voice sounding stronger than I ever heard him. George just laughed.
"What's your problem? You can go next," he said.
"No one is going next," Dad said. He sounded annoyed, but not angry. Not protective, "George, Mark, sit. And for God's sake, George, no one wants to see that so early in the morning," Disappointed, George zipped up his pants and took his seat. Mark offered his hand to help me up. I blushed. He wasn't looking at me. He never did.
"I want to discuss Becky's bathroom situation. I think we have kept her in diapers long enough. It must be humiliating for her. Being in diapers because she can't make it to the bathroom. But I'm reluctant to take her straight out of diapers. For the next few days, each of you is going to have a day to supervise Becky and her bathroom behavior. You'll give her permission to use the bathroom, make her wait if you feel it's too soon and make sure she cleans herself after,"
"Do we have to?" Connor blurted out. We had had minimal interaction since we almost had sex on a dirt road. I think he was angry- with me and himself. Dad looked irritated.
"Of course, you have to. She's your sister, you should care about her health," Yeah, because it was my health they cared about.
"May we take pictures?" asked George. Naturally. Dad considered this.
"Yes," he decreed.
"Dad!" I said in protest.
"Becky, your brothers will be inspecting your dirty bottom. Is that any way to repay them?" he asked. Oh God, could this be worse than the diaper changes?
George was the first one to take charge of my "toilet training", as Dad called it. He let me go in the morning when I had to pee. He stared at me as I tinkled into the toilet.
"Look me in the eyes," he said harshly when he caught me staring at the toilet paper dispenser. Humiliating though it was, I hastily obeyed. After all he would be deciding when I got to frequent the bathroom the rest of the day.
He was unusually nice until about six o'clock when I felt a familiar cramping that let me know I needed to make my first bowl movement of the day. "Sure. Just get on your knees," he said when I asked if he could "take" me to the bathroom (that's the kind of terminology George likes).
"What?"
"You have to blow me to use the bathroom," said the master blackmailer. "Otherwise you'll shit yourself and be back in diapers permanently," he said. He was right. The dickhead was right. And it would be so embarrassing to unleash a smelly load in my cute panties.