Author's note: the main character is a non-consensual slave. Includes scenes of non-consensual slavery.
Kaylee didn't think her Daddy would be home from his tennis game for a while, and her body fizzed with slutty energy. She stood in front of her full-length mirror, nude, admiring the slim smooth body and the wide, innocent green eyes her Daddy had given her when he'd enslaved her. Freckles, blonde hair in long braids, pouty pink lips, slim arms and elegant legs: Kaylee felt like the kind of gurl she would have pursued back home, before her 'export' - her capture by a raiding slaver crew. The only difference, she thought, was the cute little boi dick that nestled above her vagina, marking her out as someone born into a male body.
And enslaved into this one. Daddy had strict rules about being prim and proper whenever he hadn't ordered her to be a slut for him, but Kaylee knew her little brat streak turned him on and made him really show her whose little gurl she was. She frowned as a stab of humiliation hit her; a memory of maleness, of being thirty centimetres taller and twice her current weight, of not having her perky little tits and being able to fuck whoever she wanted to, whenever she felt like it.
A wave of nausea hit her and she fell down onto hands and knees. She looked up, stared herself straight in the eye in the mirror, and breathed deep. While she still had a dick, her Daddy was the only man in the house. Kaylee was supposed to look pretty, flutter her eyelashes, and not think big manly thoughts that might trouble her. When Daddy wanted to tease her about her lost masculinity, that was his right. Otherwise, she was to be grateful that he had taken it from her.
Kaylee felt a flush of lust race to her bare vulva and her smooth dick; her clit tingled. She had to will her hand away from her member, though it was oh-so-tempting to just touch and stroke a little bit. Daddy wouldn't mind, would he? He would, she knew. There were no cameras in her room or bathroom, but somehow he always knew if she'd been a bad gurl and defied his standing order of no unsupervised masturbation. Kaylee didn't know it, but her Daddy had had surveillance implants placed directly in her body when it had been 'enhanced' to turn Kaylee from man to gurl. There was nothing she could hide from the red-blooded man who owned her.
She stood up, put her hands on her slim hips, and stared into the mirror. Her mantra rose up, unbidden, "I am a good gurl for my Daddy. My Daddy looks after me. My Daddy makes decisions so I don't have to. I trust my Daddy to think for me. I trust my Daddy to provide for me. My Daddy will spank my little bottom if I am bad, and treat me kindly if I am good. I am a good gurl for my Daddy."
Kaylee wondered why she was blushing suddenly. She had fantasised about her Daddy's big cock in her tight arse, so maybe that was it, she thought, not knowing that her repressed masculinity was trying to make its shame and humiliation known. Daddy had given Kaylee a few mild doses of brainwashing, and Kaylee was grateful for that, though he had left her with enough free will to be quite the brat sometimes.
On Kaylee's bed were laid out several of her new little slut outfits, selected for her by Daddy and his friends and delivered just that morning, while Kaylee was busy on her hands and knees scrubbing Daddy's tiled floors. The delivery guy had ogled Kaylee when she'd curtseyed to him in her frilly apron - she wore nothing else to clean - and Kaylee had made herself hold her position in the doorway to let him look. Guys knew better than to touch other men's gurls without permission, and Daddy liked Kaylee to feel like eye candy sometimes, but Kaylee still felt very vulnerable in those moments. She had no real strength since her 'enhancements', and so only the force of her Daddy's ownership protected her.
She shimmied over to the bed, where the parcels lay. Even her walk was thanks to Daddy's training; a little sway and a half-skip that made her boi-dick bounce up and down. She still wished her Daddy had left it bigger, but he had pointed out that her new proportions were nice and skinny, and so her boi-clitty had to be too (though her actual clit was normally proportioned). Kaylee had even protested at that one, but Daddy had given her a breathtaking caning that had left her a shuddering, snot-nosed, crying wreck, and she had apologised for being such an ungrateful young lady then sucked his thick dick to make it up to him.
Kaylee snapped open a cardboard box and drew out a red translucent negligee that floated around as it moved. It was so light that a simple draft of air made it billow and ripple, and it had a red feather trim at the bottom. Kaylee squealed and knew she had to try it on, even though Daddy had ordered her to dress in a plain skirt and sensible top, so he could take her out for a respectable lunch when he got home from tennis.
Her Daddy did not have to know. He wasn't due back for an hour and she could model her gorgeous new clothes for herself before he came home. In fact, she reasoned, given that he had reshaped her body, altered her mind, changed her hormones, all that stuff, she was owed any little thrills she could get from her new shape. Kaylee ignored the way her bottom felt in that moment, as if in a premonition of a spanking from Daddy, and went back to the mirror.
She let the negligee fall down over her slight breasts and felt its soft material caress her skin. She sighed, then she swished her hips around a little to make the negligee rub against her frame. Kaylee shivered with pleasure, with the anticipation of how the negligee would drive her Daddy wild. She looked into the mirror and saw that its feathery trim floated just around her pussy and her cocklet that nestled above it. The little slip of clothing would bounce and float and draw the eye to her modified genitals, to the ruin of her manhood and the always shiny pussy she had been given.
Kaylee remembered when she'd been called John and she'd had a nice dick and a normal pair of balls. She felt a little nauseous in that moment: why didn't she have that body still, but then why should her Daddy's good gurl have to be troubled by thoughts like that? Then she pouted and realised she had to confess the improper thought to her Daddy - those were his iron rules - and that would surely mean a punishment of some kind. Most things did, except when she was an extra good gurl and got some kind of reward instead.
"House, play my sexy dance playlist please," said Kaylee in a sing-song voice.
"Of course, babygurl," said the house's male AI voice.
"Thank you sir," said Kaylee.
She puzzled a little at that, for a moment. She was supposed to call all men 'sir', even the slaveboys, but it had never been made clear to her if she was supposed to address AIs as sir as well. She would ask her Daddy: that was easy. Kaylee shook her head, her braids flailing, to clear away the intrusive thought that she had used to make her own decisions just fine and that 'sir' had been a word reserved for her real superiors only. She would be Daddy's good gurl and let him decide, this she had promised him and herself.
Kaylee started to jump and dance around her room. She used her hairbrush as a microphone to sing along to the music that played clear and loud through her room's speakers. There were moments of joy in being a sissy gurl slave, where she could let her inner girl out to play and ignore the fact she was 'supposed' to be a twenty-year-old guy getting blowjobs instead of giving them out like candy. She cavorted around, dancing around the bed, then on it, then back in front of the mirror.
The slavegurl especially liked her smattering of freckles. They were cute, really cute, in a borderline sleazy way that especially turned on her Daddy and quite a few of his friends. The freckles picked out a line across her cheekbones and over her button nose, light red dots that glowed in sunlight. She blew kisses at the mirror and giggled, and pushed away another memory of her oh-so-serious male self who would never have done this.
Her music cut out and the room fell silent. Kaylee spun around and saw her Daddy standing in the bedroom doorway, one eyebrow raised in obvious disapproval. Kaylee let out a little scream of surprise, then she remembered herself and rushed over to her Daddy. She took up position a metre in front of him, her hands clasped demurely together in front of her and her eyes gazing up into his.
Kaylee's Daddy was a lot taller than her, black where she was white, bald where she had a head of rich blonde hair, broad across the shoulders. Light stubble coated his face, highlighting his square jaw, and his deep black eyes bore into Kaylee's body. He frowned when he saw she was wearing the negligee, and Kaylee felt a little tremble of fear as she recognised that she had disobeyed orders and was due some punishment.
Words hung in the air between them. Kaylee was halfway to being broken, but she still had some free-male self-respect left over from her former life. There were some things she had to say to her Daddy that rankled with her, that humbled and humiliated her, that made her feel little - which was also kind of sexy - and powerless. She bit her lower lip as the tension in the room rose, and then she took a deep breath and made herself speak.
