At Laodamias

Alycia introduced me to Laodamia's at the start of my second year at college. Looking back I think she had been subtly preparing the ground in those intimate girly chats about sex and how far I would go and what were my secret kinks. I suspect that Alycia received some commission for recruiting me but I cannot complain because I have made a nice bit of money out of the club.

I made a casual remark to Alycia about how she always seemed to have new clothes and how it seemed impossible to have so much spare money while living on a student loan. That was when she told me the secret which I am fairly sure she had been planning to tell me all along.

On the surface Laodamia's is a very exclusive private dining club for the great and the good but goodness is definitely not a qualification for membership. It is quite normal for a gentleman's club to have very plush bedrooms so that a member can "spend a night at the club" after a late night of drinking in the very intimate little bar but most gentlemen's clubs do not provide company of the sort which will be with the member all night.

Another thing which the average dining club does not have is a capacious cellar divided into smaller rooms equipped with chains, whips and esoteric devices. The clientele at Laodamia's would not want to be served (I use the word in all its senses) by a tart from the red light district so Suzy, who is one of the partners, is always on the lookout for well educated young ladies who are prepared to take a little pain for a high reward.

Unlike Alycia I do not have a student loan. I live on the allowance which Daddy gives me but it is not over generous and I know I am expected to learn careful budgeting while at college rather than asking for a raise so that I can buy luxuries.

Of course you will have guessed where this story is leading. Alycia introduced me to Suzy and I began to do a few shifts at the club. At first I was an escort in the bar and dining room but it was understood that a client may want his escort to stay with him when he retired for the night so, when I was working, I would spend the night in a very comfortable bed pandering to every desire of mostly overweight businessmen. A cheap hooker does her business and leaves after an hour with a wad of notes stuffed down her bra but Laodamia's girls stay with the client all night unless he is the sort of man who chooses to kick a girl out after he has shot his load.

The girls who work with the clients never see or discuss money. That is taken care of by the monthly membership subscription and the girl receives a monthly payment from the club which is related to the work she has done that month. Quite soon I began to take clients in what we called "The Playrooms" in the basement. I had already been using a certain amount of acting skill because working in the bedrooms meant that I had to appear to be really enjoying the client's company and, of course, revelling in his sexual prowess even when he had none.

The basement rooms included a school room complete with loudly ticking clock, desks, chalk dust and canes as well as an Aztec temple and several "Punishment rooms". All of these are covered by hidden cameras and the security guys would rush in if there were a major problem but every girl who works down there knows that she will probably have to keep herself covered up for a few days afterwards to hide the wheals and rope burns. It does help if one has a slight liking for ill treatment and, of course, one can lie there or hang there thinking of the money while one is screaming into the gag.

On the evening in question I was sitting in the girl's lounge at around 9.15pm. Mostly clients call by appointment but they can drop in at any time so there have to be some girls on standby for anyone who happens to arrive. Reception has a computer system called Postfield so that they always know which girls are free.

I was sitting chatting to two other girls. Kelly, a single mum who used to work in sales, was just in her robe so that she could dash into the next door wardrobe room and put on whatever a client wanted her to wear and Hannah, who is a second year chemistry student, was in full school uniform for a client who was due at any moment. I was wearing a little black cocktail dress which is a fairly safe bet if I have to go and be with someone in the bar.

The phone from Reception buzzed and I answered it because I was closest. Jan from Reception said that Mr Henderson had just arrived for a session in a punishment room so I said I would take it.

Only the partners know the member's real names because there is a credit check upon joining but then the member chooses a false name. The girls also use assumed names. I did not know Mr Henderson so I asked my two companions. Hannah answered.

"He's a vicious bastard. He's a Three."

Taking a grade three client meant that I was in for an uncomfortable time but I would earn the highest rate of pay for the session. The client had not specified any special clothing so I went down the back stairs to the basement in my little black dress. Of course Mr Henderson would have gone down the front stairs on thick red carpet. The stairs took me to quite a narrow corridor and I opened the door of the appropriate sound-proofed room where I found my client waiting for me.

I opened my mouth to give my standard greeting and I saw his mouth fall open at the same time. There was a very brief silence and then we both spoke at the same time.

"Daddy!"

"Julie!"

He recovered his composure remarkably quickly and came to stand just in front of me so that he was towering over me. Daddy asked me how long I had been working there and I told him then he spoke very severely.

"I am paying a fortune for this session so you are going to have to make sure that I get every penny of my money's worth aren't you?"

I was extremely flustered and had not really caught up with events. Was he really saying that I would have to go ahead with the session? With my own Daddy? While I just stood there silently he grabbed a Velcro blindfold from a table and advanced towards his eldest daughter. I stood with hands by my sides as he fastened the black cloth tightly around my head shutting out all light.

"I am not going to gag you but you will not make a sound or speak unless specifically told to do so."

As I stood in great apprehension and confusion in my totally black world I felt his strong hands running gently up my hips and then stroking my tummy and breasts. When sight is cut out every other sense is multiplied and I had to work hard just to control my breathing. His hands left me and I had no idea where he was until I felt him sliding down the zip at the back of my small dress.

He pulled the dress down and ordered me to step out of it which I did. My daddy was now seeing my skimpy black bra and panties and my black hold up stockings but where was he? Was he just standing there or was he slowly walking around me? The tension in the air was almost unbearable.

I felt his hands grab my panties and they were roughly dragged down and pulled off my unresisting feet with my shoes. Of course men at the club had seen my pussy but Daddy had not seen it since I played in the paddling pool aged about four. I became aware of a tightness in the part of me in question. I cannot find a word for it but I suppose it was a sort of wicked thrill that I was now breaking pretty much every taboo which Mummy had drilled into her growing girl.

Now he was behind me and I actually felt his hot breath on the back of my neck as he unfastened my bra and stripped it from me. I was very aware that a girl in nothing but black stockings looks exactly like a whore. What would I do if my client actually wanted to spread my legs and take me there and then? I had let other clients do that but this one was...well...a bit different.

He was still being very quiet and I imagined him looking at me then, very suddenly, he grabbed my arms from behind so tightly that I whined a bit and he told me to shut up. I could feel his fingers really digging into me and I found out later that I had four neat bruises on each arm. My daddy steered me across the room and then he must have knelt down because I felt him grip my feet one at a time and chain them to the rings which I knew were set in the floor so that I was standing with my legs spread wide apart.

Not being able to see what is going on is very scary and I could not stop my body from pumping adrenaline but, of course, I could not actually do anything so the adrenaline and all that extra energy was just building up in my system. His lips brushed my left ear and he hissed at me to bend over and touch the floor. Of course bending with my legs spread like that was not easy but my Drama course does involve dance so I guess I am fairly supple.

Now I was certain I was going to be caned and I sort of braced myself. I felt something touch my buttocks very lightly and I wanted to beg him to get on with it because the tension was driving me mad. Whatever was touching my skin kept lifting off then touching a different part of my behind then it lifted away and did not come back. The first stroke was going to land at any moment. But it didn't.

As I stayed there with my legs straddled and my hair hanging down I felt a freezing cold liquid poured over my bum and running down between my bumcheeks. Then something began to be pressed between my cheeks. Now I knew that he had selected a solid rubber butt plug from the toy cupboard and I could feel that it was a big one. My panic was beginning to get near to the top of the scale because I knew this was going to hurt even with the lubrication which he had poured onto me.

I was very hot as he put the point of the plug to my exposed sphincter and began to twist and press. It slipped in quite easily and my muscle closed back behind it. I felt very full and my instinct was to repel the invader. These plugs have a pointed front end so that they can be inserted but a much squarer rear. I knew that he now had the means to hurt me a lot because if he drew that plug out quickly instead of easing it out it would feel as if I were being torn open. I was powerless to prevent him from withdrawing the plug sharply and painfully; all I could do was to be obedient and hope that my compliance would encourage my daddy to be merciful towards me.

I felt his hands pulling me upright and then my arms, each one in turn, were pulled high above my head to be strapped to opposite ends of the bar which I knew hung above the rings in the floor. So now he had me at full stretch and totally exposed and vulnerable. He did not have to tell me that he could reach every part of my naked body and do anything at all to my helpless form. I desperately hoped that he would remember that I was his flesh and blood and be merciful but my mind was asking how a father would feel at discovering his daughter working at Laodamia's. I had a very nasty feeling that this was not going to be pleasant and yet I was ashamed to realise that I was moistening between my legs. In a girl's life her father is the original authority figure and she has a need to earn his approval and to know that she is pleasing him. This situation was far outside the realms of rational thought but I somehow craved my Daddy's punishment. I wanted him to chastise me. Doesn't every girl have a secret fantasy of being put over her daddy's knee and having her skirt raised for a skelping?

How many of us have had those times when we got giggly and asked in fun if Daddy would spank us if we were bad? But I knew that I was facing a lot more than a playful spanking. Hannah's words came back to haunt me.

"He's a vicious bastard."

Her words were confirmed when he slapped his hand hard against the disc at the back end of my plug causing the thing to ram against my innards and wring a scream from the back of my throat. Two more slaps landed in rapid succession but these were on my bare buttocks. Of course I had not seen the slaps coming so I was totally unprepared and the shock, added to the fact that all my senses were heightened by the loss of sight, made the pain all the more terrible. I could not keep my body from struggling against its bonds and this did not please my client.

"You will keep still and you will be silent!"

Now I felt his warm hands upon my breasts stroking very gently. Somehow, after the pain of the slaps, his touch on my skin was almost painful and I emitted a huge involuntary gasp which I then had to fight to suppress. The stroking seemed to go on for a very long time and then he gradually began to build up the pressure from a stroke to a maul to a brutal, sadistic grope which had my feet twisting on the cold floor. I felt him take my nipples between his fingers and thumbs and he began to twist and squeeze. I knew that he expected me to take the pain in silence and I drew in my breath and held back the cries of pain.

It is well-known that screaming is one way of dealing with pain. Mothers in labour are actually encouraged to scream and swear because, in some way, that screams out the pain but Daddy was making me keep the pain bottled up inside.

And then he stopped. I was left there gasping with my delicate nipples stinging wildly. Where was he? I tried to hear his footsteps or his breathing but all was silence. What was he doing? What new torture was he preparing? I was learning what an accomplished sadist my daddy was because he well understood that the uncertainty and the fear of unknown agonies was torture in itself.

Then my left breast became a mass of sharp pain as the many tailed whip landed. I screamed and bucked against my restraints and he bellowed at me to be silent. I braced myself to deal with the pain and the next lash landed across my other breast. I handled this one better even though it caught the nipple. The lash continued to land on my belly and my breasts and then I detected a slight pattern in the strokes. He was moving his target downwards!

He thrashed me on my Mound of Venus and the next lash caught my pussy as the leather thongs actually curled underneath me. That made me howl in pain and also in terror. More lashes landed at random on breasts, belly and below and, just when I was sure my mind would break, he stopped and I heard the whip fall to the floor.

Immediately his fingers, feeling very hot and fat, were between my legs rubbing hard and causing me to pant. It was not long before he had two fingers pushing up inside me and then withdrawing and going in again. In an embarrassingly short time I was soaking; I would not have believed that I could produce so much juice and I was only barely aware that I was howling up to the ceiling.

As suddenly as he had begun he stopped leaving me standing there on legs which were at the point of collapsing so that I was pretty much just hanging by my wrists. How could he cut me off so abruptly? I couldn't just stop like that.

"Daddeeeeeeeee! Don't stop. Pleeeeeeees."

Once again his lips touched my ear as he whispered to me.

"Will you do what Daddy wants?"

"Yes Daddy. Please Daddy."

The tips of his fingers touched my nipples and my pussylips with a featherlight touch but just that lightness of touch had the same effect on my nervous system as an electric shock. I gasped helplessly and then he was freeing my ankles.

As I stood obediently he released my wrists and I lowered my aching arms and began to massage the complaining muscles in my upper arms.

"Bend over and touch your toes."

Here it came. Please let him be gentle to me.

He eased out the plug with the minimum of pain and the relief was wonderful. I felt the touch of one of the thin gowns which are kept in the Punishment Rooms and he let me slip it on.

"Now we are going up to my room and you are going to be a very good girl for Daddy aren't you?"

"Yes Daddy."

He walked beside me with his arm around my shoulders and I felt the carpet in the member's corridor beneath my stockinged feet. I was naked apart from my blindfold, robe and black holdups. It was a short walk to the lift which took us to the first floor where the bedrooms are. Now my feet were on thick, luxurious carpet and if we walked past anyone else I did not see them although they very definitely saw me and knew that I was about to be well and truly laid. Of course only Daddy and his girl knew the extra dimension to this particular pairing.

Daddy steered me into the room which he had booked and I heard the door close behind us. I stood still while he removed the blindfold which I seemed to have worn for so long and I stood blinking in the light. I saw that my robe was silver silk and he gently told me to slip it off which I did and stood before him pretty much nude for him to feast his eyes on the meal he would soon be enjoying. He told me to go into the en suite bathroom until I was summoned.

Alone in the small bathroom my heart was pounding at what was about to happen. I was going to know and be known by my own daddy in the most close and intimate way possible. I wanted to shed the stockings because of their connections to the whoring trade but he had not told me to take them off so I did not.

Then he called me using my own name rather than my workname. I went back to the opulent bedroom and found him in the large bed and obviously naked. I slipped in beside him and kissed him gently on the cheek. He took me in his arms and held me close as our tongues and lips began to explore each other on the face and neck. His hands were roving over my slim body gently working me up.

And then he rolled on top of me and I felt his full weight pressing down on me. His strong hands pinioned my arms down so that I was helpless for him to take me. Of course I was willing but this slight sense of being taken almost by force did very powerful things to me and my legs parted. He could switch from gentle to forceful and back again and he rammed into me with all the ceremony and sensitivity of a rapist. His back was arched and his face was bouncing above mine as he grunted and rammed as deeply into me as he could. Still his hands gripped my wrists so tightly that I wanted to whine but his mouth covered my own and his tongue was making me gag and fight for air.

I played up to the game that he was playing and, when I could speak, I spoke the words which I knew would increase his excitement.

"Mummy will be home soon."

This caused him to double his efforts and his thrusting into my depths became even more violent. I was writhing beneath him and my orgasm built and then exploded with my uncontrollable shouts filling the room.

And then we were lying apart each on our back and side by side as we panted and the endorphins flooded our brains. When he felt like moving he lazily put out a naked, hairy arm and snapped off the light so we only had the merest hint of moonlight. In the ensuing hours we came together repeatedly caressing, whispering and coupling until at some point we slept.

The clock said 5am when he spoke my name and I became aware that I was awake. He kissed me good morning and we had a brief whispered conversation during which he asked me if I was happy. I sighed affirmatively and he said that he would make a booking for me especially next time. He had to be ready for work so he went into the bathroom then he came back to dress in the half light as I watched from the bed.

When he was dressed I left the bed and we hugged and kissed then he went down to the dining room for breakfast. After a quick shower in the en suite I selected a robe from the wardrobe and went down the backstairs to the locker room where I had left my day clothes.

I had another day at college.