Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
*****
This is not a "pure" BDSM story, I did not intend it to be. It doesn't follow the "rules" even though I know them well. This story needed telling and is only for entertainment.
Comments are welcome.
***
The ringer jolted me from sleep.
"Who is it?"
I flailed for my glasses on the headboard. Two-thirty in the morning, my dog is still asleep. There's only so many people this could be.
"Hello? Hey, it's me. I'm sorry, but I need to ask you a big favor."
In the six months following the most heinous break-up and campaign of character assassination I'd ever seen, the regular silence of my phone taught me who had inherited our so-called friends.
"Yes. I'm listening."
Insomnia, bill collectors, resurrecting my social life, I wasn't getting easy sleep.
"I'm sorry for calling so late."
She'd been dragging this out for quite a while, nine months from the day I opened the door after a grueling shift, panicked, believing at first we'd been robbed. Dogs missing, bookcases overturned, I flipped over furniture praying to the universe she wasn't underneath. It took me longer than it should have for me to notice only her shit was gone.
All this time, and I didn't quite know why she kept calling, coming back.
"I think you have all of your stuff."
Understatement. They left the house unlocked, windows open in January. They took all the blankets, cut off the heat, and threw away most of my left shoes. I spent that night freezing, sleeping under a mattress.
"I don't need any stuff, in fact I think we took a bunch of your things."
Sure, she sounded innocent, but that was her thing. She always sounded innocent, no matter *what* she was doing. I was pretty sure that "we," was her mom and dad. Scaly people at best.
"I don't know. What can I do for you?"
Its not like she ever worked for anything. I think her dad cultivated helplessness in her, while handing her fists of money. I didn't expect her to move in, just one day she left San Antonio slid into bed, fucked the shit out of me, and never went back home. At first it was nice, but I wasn't making "support two people money." For sure, not in Austin. She quit the little job she had the minute she moved in. She didn't work a minute the entire five years after.
"I need some money."
Of course she did. She lied to her parents about having a job in a shop. Seriously, she created a fake career, researched her lies, got to know the real staff, products, and bought a counterfeit uniform to hang in the closet. It had to be less work to actually work there. I have to admit, it amused me to fuck her while she wore the uniform.
"How much do you need this time?"
Her parents had royally screwed me over that night. It took me three months to recover, buy blankets, pots and pans, at six months without having to feed someone else, I finally had cash to spare.
"I need $200."
I spent at least that much on porn last month. Her voice sounded tiny. Living at home with her parents, she must be trying not to be overheard. Slammed back in the cage she grew up avoiding. These last six months she's been escaping SA, driving ninety minutes from her parents house, and using the key she kept hidden from them. I'd come home from work to find her in the apartment, stripped down to her birthday suit, spread legged in submissive position waiting for me.
"I have that. When can you get it?"
She'd sit there, posed in flawless stillness, because that's what I trained her to do. I told her, since she refused to work, she'd pay her way as I saw fit or go back home. Those brutal parents, her wretchedly strict upbringing, made her "suggestible." Already submissive by nature, or nurture, or whatever the opposite of nurture is... I made her mine.
It wasn't hard. Combinations of ritualistic sex, constant edging, orgasm denial, diet control, subtle application of brainwashing techniques, sleep deprivation, and many, many hours of forced orgasm sessions, over the course of the first year, I made her a collared submissive. Within the first three years she became my first 24/7 slave. She was the first girl I'd ever branded my mark into. The surprise, to me, came when she asked me to burn my symbol on to her flesh. Sure, I'd had her pierced for my pleasure. Nipples, clit, we'd thickened the gauge of them many times already, she wasn't into pain. She shied away from tattoos for the obvious reasons, and struggled to find a way to show permanently, her devotion.
"I can't come. They know. They're checking my odometer."
They checked her mail too. Last month, while she was giving up her ass, she wailed about how her father had read our *love letters,* at Hanukkah, the details following her branding. In her pile of letters, were training diagrams and commands, things she kept with her to feel safe. There were details about how I'd burned my mark right above her hairless pussy, and my astonishment at her request for the letters s.l.a.v.e. to follow in the near future. She wanted them burned into the flesh encircling her left nipple. I wrote at length about her talented mouth sucking "Daddy's" cock, and how proud I was of her execution of her training. Making her my slave was my idea, the daddy fixation was all her kink.
Her nosy father was irate, snatching my girl and confiscating all those documents from our home soon after.
I still believe it was jealousy, stemming from my instinct that he'd molested her through her teenage years. The daddy issues we'd recently had something of a breakthrough. I'd fucked her ruthlessly, she'd been calling out "Daddy, Daddy! Daddy!" while she squirted her girl juices across the room. Post-coital, laying in my arms, thoughtfully stroking my cock, she said with a far away look "I've been with you longer than the total time I lived with my parents. You've been my Daddy longer than him, Daddy." Fully hard, she threw her leg over me, and slid my cock up her ass for that night's round two.
"I can drive down, but we can't meet at your parent's house, if they see me, they'll shoot me."
They f'd me over. Taken what was mine. Threatened my life. I still wanted payback.
"I'll meet you in the parking lot of that closed big box store next to that place you used to work at. Do you think they'd let you in to change? Doesn't matter, don't worry about it."
She was fired from there, because they caught her fucking the manager. Way before she met me, the girl had a pattern that included men lots older than me. Her submissive tendencies made her reluctant to say no.
"I think so, why?"
As far as I knew, her old manager was still working there. I figured he owed her a few.
"I'm bringing your harness. Be ready. 3:00 o'clock tomorrow."
I stitched the binding harness by hand. Luckily, it survived the parental purge and evacuation of our home. It fit her like skin, actually a little tighter, so that her bits bulged out around it, intentionally to make her self-conscious. When she wore the black supple leather, she became more compliant, her thoughts came from a proper slave-space. Just the mention of it focused her behavior in that direction.
"Yes, Sir."
A proper girl shaped girl, actually even more buxom for her height at five foot one, her harness accentuated those curves, digging into the flesh around her belly above the flair of her hips, it isolated and presented her double D-cup tits. The cherry, as it were, on top her heavy gauge nipple bars and long loop stirrups capped those thick puffy nipples in silver.
"Have you kept your piercings?"
She had to wear heavily padded bras to hide the metal. This only made her more conspicuous by adding to the size of her breasts at her height.
"They're so hard to hide."
She sounded vaguely evasive, tense, I could hear the sound of her fingers frigging her pussy. Her breath, halting.
"I know they are."
The sounds from the phone told me she was profoundly close to cumming, if she was allowed, her orgasm would be a revelation.
"You're going to work for that money this time, you know that."
"Yes Sir."
She was so close. If I had been there to cast my breath on her clit, she would have popped already. Not yet...
"Stop touching yourself. You can edge all night, but no cumming until tomorrow."
She held her breath. The wet sounds of her fingers in motion stopped.
"Yes Sir."
